Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series

by Nicholas C. Rossis

  They arrived at a wall, which the woman pushed aside to reveal a small, elegant room with a towering statue of Themis at its centre. David recognized the place immediately; they were standing inside Themis’s temple at the Chamber of Justice. He stumbled back in surprise, but Tie pulled him into the room.

  “Have no fear, son, we’re alone. Now, as I was saying, people think they are worshipping Themis, but do you know what our religion is really all about?”

  David had some idea by now, and he attempted an answer. “Serving justice?”

  The woman bobbed her head. “Sure, teaching people the difference between serving justice and obeying laws is important. It’s funny, though; Themis is not a person, yet they pray to her. I suppose it doesn’t hurt, but it’s silly. Themis is an ideal, not a person. Not a goddess.”

  Obviously, this is a woman who loves the sound of her own voice, David thought, growing tired of the lecture. The Voice giggled, then shushed him. Tie continued her little speech, unaware of his amusement.

  “We believe our world is mirrored in countless universes. They’re on top of each other, like foam and bubbles, or a stack of pancakes.”

  Pancakes. David’s mouth watered, and he realised he was famished.

  “Once a soul comes into being,” she said, “it splinters into fragments, each ending up in one of the worlds. We can’t be free until all fragments are joined again. Do you know how this happens?”

  David’s eyes darted around the room as he tried to figure out an escape route. The entrance to the main corridor and a small door in the back were the only ways out, but he could not imagine either of them leading him to safety. He noticed the silence and realised Tie had stopped talking; was she waiting for an answer? What was the question, though?

  Just say no, the Voice helped him.

  “No, ma’am,” he said.

  “Resonance, son. All fragments must vibrate in the same frequency. This allows the soul to find its splinters, and piece by piece put itself back together again. Therefore, all fragments in all worlds must be equally good or bad, or resonance will be impossible. But to be good, first you need to figure out what good is, right?”

  David stared at her, a blank expression on his face, and Tie huffed in exasperation. “Never mind. Let me see if I can put it in a way you understand. To save my soul, I must save your life. Is that clear enough for you?”

  David glanced around again, panic building up in his chest. “So what you gonna do? We’re trapped in here. You gonna use magic to make me disappear?”

  “Magic? We don’t use magic here.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I was joking. Everyone knows there’s no such thing.”

  “Oh, isn’t there? What do you call your very life then, if not magical? The fact that one moment you’re breathing and living, and the next your body’s an empty shell? And what do you call that thing inside you? Of course there’s magic.”

  As a child he had loved fairy tales with magic, so this caught his attention. “There is?”

  “Life has a rhythm, a flow of its own. All living things dance to its tune. When you want something and use magic to focus your will, you may get it. But two things happen. One, every force in the universe creates an equal and opposite force. You may get your wish, but there will always be a price to pay. The more forceful your magic, the higher the price.”

  He scratched his head in confusion.

  “And the second one,” she continued, “well, life’s a school. It will teach you what you need to know. Most times, it’s the same ol’ lesson: that the things you think you want are never the ones you really want.”

  “Sure they are.”

  “Really? Take you, for example: what is it you want?”

  “I want to get out of here,” David shouted, waving around him.

  She nodded towards the door. “There’s the exit.”

  “But they’ll kill me if they find me.”

  “Ah. So you don’t want to get out; you want to be safe.”

  “I…” He stopped and sulked. “All right, so I want to be safe.”

  “Again, no. Death is the safest place known to man. Nothing can touch you there; no one can hurt you. So just die already and be safe.”

  He crossed his arms. “Fine. What do I want?”

  “You tell me. Most people simply want to be happy.”

  “How can I be happy?”

  “The easiest way is by serving others. Some choose to serve their god.”

  He grimaced to show how silly that sounded. “And that makes people happy?”

  “What makes people happy is inner peace. Serving others gives you that. The way of serving that appeals to you, though; well, that’s for you to discover. Some teach. Others fight injustice, or take care of their families. Of orphans. Animals. The sick. Themis' priests become the world’s children. Accept a man’s filth, and you become master of his soul, as we say.”

  She won’t help me further until she’s said all she wants to, he realized. Fine, I’ll play. “So how can I make things happen if not by magic?”

  “Well, the best way is hard work. Or you could pray, I guess. Or both.”

  David’s face hung. “Praying’s not magic. Nor is work.”

  She made a tsk sound, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. “Work’s how humans have done things for ages. And prayer asks for nothing in return; that’s its difference from magic.”

  David shook his head.

  “Prayer’s not abusive,” Tie explained. “It harmonizes your life with the universe’s will. You’re a supplicant; a petitioner. Magic and technology, though, work by bending the universe to your will. Very different concepts. That’s why they both come with a price.”

  “A price?”

  “Sure. Like, you get your wish, but won’t enjoy it. People never ask for what they really want, just what they think they do. So, you get the money, but lose people’s respect. You get the girl, but she’ll make your life hell.”

  David was starting to lose his patience; all he wanted was to leave the place and never come back. His feet pointed at the door. “How do you know all this, anyway?” he asked, trying to hide his frustration.

  She chuckled. “I’m a priestess, what did you expect? So, what do you wish for?”

  “To make the world a better place,” he joked.

  “Using force to conquer the universe only causes resistance. The world is ruled by letting things take their course.”

  “So we do nothing?”

  “You can help the Divine Will along, give in to it.”

  “How do I know it?”

  “Anyone who has their ears open can hear it. We priestesses bend our will to the Divine Justice. Standing at the centre allows you to see clearly. Hold still and you’ll recognise the movement around you, the tide of things. How night turns into day, winter into spring, rain into sunshine. How everything contains the seed of its opposite and will someday turn into it; how nothing is static, but everything flows. And most importantly, how everything’s easy when you follow this rhythm, and hard when you don’t. Finally, standing still allows you to hear clearly.”

  David shifted his weight on one leg, then the other, until he realised he probably looked desperate to visit the loo and stood still. “Hear what?”

  “Everything. Even Themis herself. A prophet once wanted to see God. There’s a storm, but God’s not there. Then there’s an earthquake, but God’s not there either. Finally, there is a light breeze, a puff of wind, and that’s where God is. Do you know why?”

  His feet had turned him towards the door again and he had to spin around to answer. He wondered how long he could keep calm. “Because God’s not violent?”

  “No, because God’s will is so fine and imperceptible than it can only be compared to the lightest of breezes. How can you expect to follow the Divine Will if you can’t understand it; how can you understand it if you can’t hear it first; and how can you hear it unless you stand still? Your own thoughts and emotions make so
much clatter inside your head I can hear them from here.”

  He pursed his lips. “You can’t hear thoughts.”

  “You can’t hear anything, son. You wish to leave here, right? Let me show you.”

  Tie crossed the room, pausing under Themis’s statue to ask for her blessing before continuing to the other side. She opened the door at the back and waved David through. Once inside, she slumped behind a large desk across from the door, motioning David to sit in the armchair before her.

  “Close your eyes and open your ears,” she said once he had sat down. “Relax. What do you hear?”

  His eyes darted around the room. “Nothing.”

  “I said hear, not see. Just relax. Listen to your breath. Can you hear that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Calm yourself. You’re safe, peaceful. What else can you hear?”

  “My heart. It’s beating in my chest.”

  “Good, good. Now breathe deeply and calmly, nice and easy… feel your body get heavier, starting at your feet. Ignore any thought that passes through your mind and focus on my voice. Feel your feet go heavy, then your knees. Now feel the heaviness spread upwards through your body to your legs… your stomach… your chest… down your hands… through your back and into your head… Your entire body turns heavy and relaxed, and then light, as all tension leaves you and you’re floating. Listen to the room. What do you hear?”

  David stayed silent for a while, his breath becoming softer as his body slouched on the comfortable large armchair. He heard a soft sound from behind him, like wind passing through a thin opening. “A hiss,” he said in surprise.

  “Good, good. Now open your eyes slowly and return. When you do, you will feel calm and relaxed.”

  After a short while, he stared at her in wonder. “That was nice.”

  “Yes, it’s a form of prayer. Now, what did you say you heard?”

  He jumped out of the armchair to examine the panelled wall behind him. Her hand disappeared under her desk and a soft click sounded from the wall. One of the panels hinged open, barely wide enough for him to pass through.

  “You will leave through that. I’m afraid I can’t come with you; as you can see, I’m somewhat larger than you.” She laughed at her own joke so hard that tears appeared in her eyes. She wiped them with the back of her hand, still giggling, then continued. “You’ll find a tunnel. Follow it until you reach a wall. Knock three times, count to three and knock three times again. You’ll meet a group of First there. Do exactly as they tell you if you wish to live. Do you understand?”

  David nodded.

  “Now put this on, and off you go.” She produced a leather jerkin from a drawer and threw it to David, who put it on with trembling hands. She motioned him towards the opening in the wall.

  He entered and paused, his head hidden in the dark opening. “Why are you helping me?”

  The large woman sank into her chair. “As a favour to an old friend,” she said with a sigh. “Now, scoot!”

  She took a large bottle filled with a brown liquid from the drawer and filled a glass. “Themis have mercy on us all,” she murmured, and emptied the glass in one large gulp as he scurried away.

  Petria

  September 23, Parad

  The Lancers excelled at hiding, helped by the overcast sky that hid much of the twin moons’ light. Parad could only sense Gella next to him, sliding in the dark like a shadow, next to two of her soldiers. They had left their mounts a while back to cover the remaining distance on foot, avoiding two patrols so far. One had passed so close that he had smelled the stale sweat on the men, for a moment fearing they would smell theirs. They had been lucky, though; the patrol had ignored them, carrying on with their routine.

  After a long walk, they arrived at the foot of a small, steep hill that would normally be impossible to climb, especially during a dark night like this. However, Parad remembered a narrow, precipitous path that allowed them to reach its top with little effort. He had first noticed the inaccessible hill overlooking the tall wall around Petria during the last inspection. Marl, the protector of Petria and commander of the local garrison, had insisted that it posed no danger to the city. With the help of a local herder, Parad had been quick to prove him wrong.

  A smile crept on his lips. His report had gone ignored by Marl, just like his orders that guards be posted there at all times. Although a guard had been placed by Parad himself before his return to the Capital, it was obvious that no one had been on the hill in months.

  When Parad had arrived for his Petria inspection unannounced, as was his habit, he had been astounded at Marl’s incompetence. Half the men supposed to be on duty had not even bothered to show up, and the weapons were in poor condition and covered with a thick layer of dust. His original plan had been to spend two days in Petria. Instead, he had ended up spending over a week. In that time he had earned Marl’s hatred, but could not care less.

  Parad now knelt on the hill’s precipice, the guarding of which had been at the top of his ignored list of permanent orders. Gella landed next to him with a soft thump; in the dark, only her light-filled eyes were visible. He nodded towards two sentries below them, huddled around a low burning fire. Crusoe’s sigil, the three ants, flew above them; no other men were in sight.

  Gella gestured her orders and their companions slipped into the darkness. Parad noticed with approval that they made as little sound climbing down the hill as they had during its ascent. The guards below them muttered to each other, oblivious of death’s rapid approach. One of them broke into throaty laughter.

  Parad’s stomach tightened. What would they rather be doing if they knew they had under a minute to live?

  The sight of twin swords flashing as the Lancers activated their energy arcs mesmerised him. The weapons sang in the dark for no more than a second before darkness engulfed them again, blood having quenched their thirst for now; a mere letter and two flaming blades separating laughter from slaughter.

  Gella touched his shoulder and he jumped under her hand. I must be getting old, or she’d never have been able to startle me like that. Her crooked smile showed she knew she had startled him. He scowled at her. Still, the skill demonstrated by her and her men impressed him, so he gave her a grudging nod after a moment and let her lead the way.

  The warm, copper smell of blood and the sickening stench of guts hit him before they saw the wall below them. The familiar smell still managed to upset him. He paused for a second before jumping down, knowing from past experience how easy it was to slip on spilt blood. He did not want to offer the Lancers the story of the general who slipped and fell head first into a pool of blood; such a story would be told in bars and taverns for years. Side-stepping the two corpses, he nodded his approval to Gella’s men. They put out the fire, the smell of smoke covering all other odours. An unexpected sense of gratitude filled him. I am getting old.

  They all sat down in crushing silence, waiting until shouts sounded in the distance. Petria’s cannon woke up with a shudder and fired its rhythmic heavy thud.

  Ba-thump!

  Faint explosions in the distance followed. The soldiers exchanged expectant smiles. If their plan succeeded, the attack to the side gate—a diversion by the rest of the Lancers—would drive the defenders away from the main gate. This would allow Parad’s unit to open it to Tang and the main force—provided he managed to get there soon enough.

  Gella gestured a silent command. The two men jumped to their feet and rushed towards the main gate. Parad grinned as he got up. Only Gella remained behind for a moment. “Good job so far, Lieutenant,” he whispered. “Let’s hope our luck holds.”

  Gella faced him. One moon broke suddenly from behind a cloud, highlighting her fine features. He swallowed, trying not to stare at her big eyes and trim body. Her eyes locked with his for a second, then she surprised him by planting a soft kiss on his lips.

  “For luck.” She darted off towards the shouts in the distance before he had a chance to respond.

&
nbsp; He drew a deep breath to regain his composure before hurrying after her. Their small team jumped off the short parapet that stood beside the gate, surprising the dozen Loyalists who believed themselves safe behind the sturdy wall.

  A young man rushed to his feet. Before he had a chance to draw his weapon, Gella plunged her sabre into his stomach. She released it with a sharp twist and slashed at a second defender. Before Parad had a chance to join the fight, all the Loyalists had fallen screaming to the dance of flaming lances.

  Gella rushed to the gate and repeatedly kicked a log locking it in place. On her third attempt, it flew away, spraying them with splinters. The gate flung open with a loud crash.

  Stealing anxious looks around, Parad stepped over a warm body and into a puddle of blood. Shaking his boot, he slithered to the inviting space between the thick walls, his ears pricked. He grinned at the sound of approaching hooves. Tang had arrived just in time.

  The Marshes

  David

  They had been riding for days, always heading further north, and the novelty had soon worn off. They travelled away from any roads, following ancient paths only known to the First, making brief stops to hunt and rest. They had crossed into the Marshes a couple of days ago, although the actual marshlands were still far away. David knew his posture was all wrong—the fact that his back was on fire and every muscle in his body ached told him as much. There was not much he could do about it, though: servants in the Capital were hardly encouraged to ride, and his efforts to mimic the effortless riding of his three silent companions just made him realise how hard it is to make something look easy.