Reality's Plaything

by Will Greenway

  The foggy impressions of the forest vanished.

  Wake up, damn it!

  He regained consciousness what seemed instants later. He couldn’t see himself. The broken outcrops of the canyon whipped by.

  What happened?

  Thank Ishtar! I thought you’d gone into trauma and your spell link would break. They jerked into an abrupt vertical climb, skirting the rock face. His stomach felt as though it lodged in his boots. He heard several mushy thuds behind them.

  We’re in it deep. Rankorhaaz is gone, but he sacrificed his energy to gate in hundreds of these fiends.

  They arced around and stopped abruptly. Irodee and Sarai stood bracketing Wren’s body where she lay in the grass. The huge coil of climbing cord was still looped over her shoulder.

  Wren released him. A tingling went through him as his bones and flesh became like oil pouring down and spiraling up into a solid form.

  A wave of exhaustion enveloped him. He collapsed to his knees.

  “Welcome back, my One.” Sarai grinned at him. He noticed blood coated the elf’s hands. He scanned the clearing. A huge orc lay sprawled nearby, neck twisted at an impossible angle.

  Sarai frowned. She glanced at the dead orc. “Fool tried to attack me from behind. At least his bow is serviceable.”

  Her tone made his skin prickle.

  Wren hovered nearby, obviously debating whether to stay astral or assume human form again. She gazed skyward. Bannor saw dozens of force lines still ran upward from the savant’s astral shape.

  The demons grouped again for another attack.

  “Grath.” Sarai muttered in elvish. She threw the bow down. “Wren, here. Irodee—Bannor, take her body away from the cliff.”

  The jewel eyes of Wren’s bird form flashed. She checked the demons. She must have guessed what Sarai planned. “Do it!”

  Irodee shouldered her bow and scooped up Wren’s limp form. Bannor grabbed the rest of the equipment. The weight made his strained body scream in protest.

  Limping for cover, he noticed Irodee wasn’t moving any better. Sarai must have known they couldn’t outrun any pursuit.

  He saw Wren’s bird shape engulf Sarai. She appeared to sprout fiery wings as she raised her arms toward the heavens.

  The ground rumbled and the lattice of force lines became crimson.

  The nearest demons slowed but the press of their fellows shoved them forward.

  Sarai made a clawing gesture. The ground exploded and a giant fist of rock smashed into the massed creatures. Like a huge stone serpent it writhed and struck.

  The demons broke ranks. Several slipped inside her reach. Bannor grabbed for the orc bow at the same time Irodee reached for hers.

  Sarai had used most of the orc’s war arrows. His arms felt like clay. He drew and fired. The shaft thudded into a monster’s scaly arm.

  Irodee’s aim was slightly better. The arrows hit but not with the stopping accuracy both of them needed.

  Heart pounding, he kept firing, one in four finding a vital spot. There were simply too many. Sarai!

  The fiends reached her. A huge earthen hand shot upward and grabbed a demon around the torso. The creature screeched. Sarai clenched her flaming hand into a fist. The rocky member squeezed with a sickening crack. She seized more demons and crushed them.

  Sarai retreated, the ground bulging upward and grabbing any demon that came too close.

  By the time she reached the trees, the clearing glistened with demon ichor. The monsters changed course and headed toward the flats.

  “They’re breaking off!” Wren gave a whoop. Sparkles danced around her hawk shape. “Yes, what a boost! To be on the offensive for once.”

  Bannor looked from Wren to Sarai. She met his eyes and smiled. Her chest heaved and sweat streamed down her face. She’d bitten her lip during the fight, and blood trickled down her chin.

  Sarai put her hands on her hips. “Well?”

  He let go of the bow and hugged her. She fitted her steaming body to his. Sarai kissed him fervently. He tried to ignore the taste of her blood.

  She pushed him back a little. “You’re trembling.”

  Bannor let out a breath. “I’m ready to fall down. You scared me.”

  Sarai frowned and held his hand up. His fingers were raw from pulling the bowstring.

  “My One, you never quit. It must be part of why I love you.” She kissed away the blood.

  Wren’s hawk shape dove into her body. Bannor saw the force lines wink out. The savant sat up and wiped the sweat off her forehead. She tried to stand and failed. After her second attempt and failure Irodee helped.

  “Ishtar,” she breathed. “We’re lucky that we managed to drive them off. I don’t think we could fight now if we tried.” She leaned against Irodee. “Let’s get under cover.”

  They made their way slowly into the trees.

  Bannor pointed back to the clearing. “What about the orc?”

  “He was an advanced scout for the war party coming from the pass.” Wren caught her breath and continued. “Without Rankorhaaz they shouldn’t be a bother until they get another leader.”

  They found a small glade and collapsed into the soft grass.

  Everyone lay still. The only sounds were those of night animals and breaths taken to calm speeding hearts. Even Sarai appeared exhausted.

  Sarai put her head on Bannor’s chest. He watched the stars. His skin still felt hot as though he’d been sunburned. Irodee and Wren lounged an arm length away.

  Bannor broke the silence after a long while. “Where now?”

  Wren answered. “The coast, to a town named Bravadura. I have allies there. Hopefully, by then my Mother or Father will check in with me, and we can get transport home.”

  “And then?” Sarai sat up. “Cower behind your walls? Live in self exile?”

  Wren sat up too. “I understand you’re upset, Sarai, but at least in Cosmodarus, Hecate will leave you alone.”

  Sarai’s eyes flashed. “I appreciate your efforts on our behalf. I refuse to be closed in where your family has us at their mercy. That makes you no different from those avatars.”

  Wren stiffened. Her face reddened. “Don’t even think to compare me to those beasts!” She stared at Bannor. “You want to spend the rest of your existence running from those things?” She pointed at the canyon. “I’m offering you a life. A place of safety where you can raise children and can learn about your talent.” She met Sarai’s eyes again. “You’re right, I have motives and agendas. You’ve seen what Bannor can do. What would you do in my place?”

  Sarai frowned. “You’re worried they’ll use him against you, the only savant more powerful.”

  “Hang the danger to me. His power has to be controlled. He pulled the entire planet’s magic field out of alignment, for Ishtar’s sake! What happens if it gets out of hand? A whole population could get erased!”

  Bannor’s gut turned icy. The immensity of the danger had never been expressed in those terms. He cut off Sarai’s answer. “Wren, you’re sure that many people could get hurt?”

  She snorted. “Bannor, we’re not discussing hurt here. I mean total annihilation; a disruption of the forces that hold reality together. This whole planet and everyone on it could simply cease to be.”

  Sarai started to cut in and Bannor put a hand over her mouth. “You can stop that from happening?”

  “That’s why I want to train you.”

  He looked at Sarai. “I don’t care if it is a cage. We go with Wren.”

  Sarai didn’t say anything. She only glared at Wren.

  Devotion. My servants are devoted because I allow them to be no other way.

  * * *

  I admit that sometimes I am jealous of those who inspire it rather than force it.

  There does appear to be a certain ‘quality’ to inspired devotion that makes it desirable over that won through glamours and fear. I must make it a point to examine the phenomena closer…

  —From the Dedriad, ‘musings of a
n immortal’.

  Chapter Thirteen

  « ^ »

  Interlude.

  Journal Entry 27: Spring, 1102 New Ivaneth Calendar.

  I hope that these journal entries will survive me should things get even worse than anticipated. So far, this book has endured every extreme I have exposed it to. The magic tracer placed within it should allow you to locate this record and give you the knowledge necessary to proceed in my absence. The situation is dire and events have taken unpredictable turns.

  Mother, I can hear your voice as clearly as if you were standing at my shoulder. “Wren, you really must learn your limitations.”

  Let me be remembered as saying you were right. You have always been right. I love you. I wish I had told that you more often. In death, I will regret that the most. We all needed time to come together as a family again. We all found it hard, especially me. I would like to lay the blame at Hecate’s doorstep, to say that the magics that wiped my mind had paralyzed my ability to care. I always feared that my newfound father, mother, and brother were only a dream, a figment that might vanish like a setting sun. In things of the heart, I have become bow shy. Over the summers, Set and Hecate have taken much from me. Tell Azir and Father that I love them too.

  It is morning now. The storm winds make travel impossible. We are holed up in a cave five leagues south and west of the Hades Flats. Rankorhaaz is dead. He did not go quietly. Before he died, he opened a dimensional portal and allowed scores of serpent demons through before I could finish him. We slew forty before driving them off. They harried us as we came south. They seem to share Rankorhaaz’s hatred of water and did not attack after the storm hit.

  As I write this, Bannor stands at the mouth of the cave. He is edgy, like a trapped animal. I have watched the development of the Garmtur’Shak Nola since the encounter at Blackwater. With each use, the power he taps increases.

  It frightens me.

  We discussed the power of this new savant. His abilities are beyond our expectations. It daunts me to be near it. Bannor has insisted on testing his talent despite my warnings. It is a miracle we still live.

  Irodee is as stolid as ever, but she senses my fear. I think that scares her more than Bannor does. I want to come home. I should have waited for your help. Now, I’m trapped with an army of orcs and Ishtar knows how many demons tracking us.

  If that weren’t enough, I face another trial: Sarai, Bannor’s elven wife-to-be. She is a spirited woman, a gray elf noble if I know anything about elves. I like her, but Sarai mistrusts me. Since Bannor transformed her (see my entry 23), she becomes ever more suspicious. I have noted a disturbing pattern. In the day she is pleasant—calm. At night she becomes hostile—vicious. I don’t know if this is stress, part of the transformation, or an avatar manifestation.

  That is my main problem. I don’t know enough about Bannor’s talent. I surmise that his ability may have been working on a subconscious level for summers. For him to win the love of this landed princess is far-fetched without magic. Not slighting Bannor, he is handsome, gentle and honest, but the gray elves rarely couple with humans. The way he describes their chance encounter, seems no chance to me whatsoever. I have not been foolish enough to mention this observation.

  Mother, it makes me cold. He is so taken by this woman that if she walks away, it will destroy my chances of getting him to safety. He would pursue Sarai into Hades itself, and my words would not divert him.

  They hug and she looks past him at me. She raises her chin and our eyes meet. There can be no doubt in my mind. She knows there is nothing I can do if she decides to take him away. Bannor’s power is truly awesome. Should Hecate somehow harness him, no part of the cosmos will be safe from her.

  Ishtar help me, Mother. Will I have the strength to do what must be done? What other choice is there if Sarai means to take him?

  What then?

  End of Interlude

  Bannor stared out at the sheets of rain. He listened to the roar of the wind and watched as huge needleleaf and scalebark pitched in the gusts like pennons atop a castle. Star-bright jags of lightning flickered across the sky followed by stone shaking rumbles. A damp musty smell filled the cavern, and wood burned fitfully in a ring of stones at Wren’s feet.

  The savant lay against the wall, legs tucked against her chest, jotting notes in a metal-bound journal with a quill. Irodee and Sarai lounged at the back of the cave playing stones on a grid they had scratched in the floor. Irodee sprawled like a great cat, seeming to expand to fill all available space. Sarai sat cross-legged across from her. Apparently, the Myrmigyne knew the game well because Sarai studied the grid intently, brow furrowed, her chin resting on a fist.

  He envied Irodee. Sarai beat him at stones so easily it made him feel stupid. The current contest had lasted a bell now with neither gaining a significant lead. His games rarely went half that duration.

  Bannor turned his gaze back out to the storm. Blue and green colors shot through the clouds. Each time the colors flashed, what he now recognized as a force line would ignite, then fade.

  Magic.

  He wondered if Wren had noticed or even cared. She’d spent all of yesterday and now most of this morning scribbling in that book.

  “Game.” Irodee turned over a row of stones. “74 to 70.”

  Sarai frowned. “By Carellion, well played.” She smiled after a moment, and then noticed he was watching her. Her eyes met his. “I guess I should take her more seriously.”

  He stooped to walk over and crouch next to Sarai, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I have never taken her any other way.”

  Irodee smiled.

  Sarai rubbed her cheek against his knuckles. It made him feel warm inside. She reset the board. “You play masterfully. Could you be more scholarly than you let on?”

  Irodee’s dark eyes glinted. “Irodee never said she was not schooled.”

  Bannor folded his arms. “What formal school teaches common like you speak it?”

  The Myrmigyne raised an eyebrow. She gazed at the cave roof for a moment, cleared her throat and spoke. “Perhaps you think I should use the properly inflected king’s common?” Her words rolled out in melodious tones like the voice of a trained mage or a stage bard.

  Bannor felt his jaw drop. Sarai looked amazed too.

  The Myrmigyne frowned and placed a stone on the grid. “Irodee talk like that and all her sisters make fun. If you big as Irodee, people think you slow,” she tapped her temple. “Better for Irodee they not know different.”

  “It fooled me, too.” Wren blew on a page to dry the ink. “I knew she read, but didn’t know the queen had sent her to the Kel’Ishtauri School as a reward for bravery.”

  “Kel’Ishtauri?” Sarai breathed. “The great bard school?”

  Wren nodded.

  Bannor scratched his head. “Bard School?”

  “Cassandra Kel’Ishtauri the arch-magi of Ivaneth founded a great bard university. It is the most prestigious on Titaan.”

  He sniffed. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  Sarai sighed. She started to say something, then closed her mouth.

  Wren tested the ink on the page before closing the book. “If I hadn’t been a rogue scholar I wouldn’t know about it, either.”

  Sarai made her move and studied Irodee as if the Myrmigyne had become a new person. “How well did you do?”

  “Irodee graduated Sera Kan Fara.”

  Sarai’s eyes widened again. Bannor guessed Sera Kan Fara was good. “Did you get to learn under Master Almechi?”

  In her excitement, she must have forgotten he was listening. He felt a twinge of resentment. Sarai was always after him to read. She spent all the money he gave her on books and scrolls. Their living space had suffered for it too.

  Their talk about school, masters, classes and grades didn’t mean much to a man who had learned his letters kneeling in the dirt. Like many in the borderlands his education came from traveling bards. They taught in return for shelter.

&nbs
p; He went back to the cave mouth to watch the storm. Wren stood, came and touched his arm. “Sera Kan Fara is the top ten of a hundred, Bannor. Maga Kan Fara is best of class.”

  He smiled, grateful for the translation.

  “I saw you look at me as if you wanted to tell me something.”

  He studied her face. Like Irodee this woman was more than she appeared. She saw things even when her attention appeared elsewhere.

  Bannor pointed out at the storm. “It isn’t natural. There’s magic driving the weather.”

  Wren frowned and studied the sky.

  He stood hands clasped behind his back.

  “Are you seeing things all the time now?”

  “I didn’t see it at first. As I watched, I thought I saw some colors. When I concentrated, there it was.”

  She let out a breath and folded her arms.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Wren didn’t answer. She stared at the floor.

  “Wren?”

  She focused again. “It’s nothing. Damn it.”

  Her knuckles were white. That scowl wasn’t for nothing. He stared at her.

  “Were you ever in charge of a patrol?”

  The question took him by surprise. “A couple times, why?”

  “Take them into danger?”

  He frowned. “Yes. I lost a couple men once.”

  “How did it feel, Bannor? Remember how it felt to be responsible for other people’s lives?”

  Too quickly it brought back the image of Tanny lying in the ditch, his head split open from an ogre’s club, chunks of his flesh ripped away to provide a trail snack for the monsters. He would always remember the smell of death. It made his throat tighten.

  “I didn’t like it. The Baron required it of me, so I did it.” He swallowed, realizing where she was leading. “Is it that bad?”

  She leaned against the wall. Her face looked pale. “Bannor, this isn’t a simple patrol. That’s the power of the gods out there.” Her chin quivered. “They’re serious this time. I am one person.” She looked at him, eyes moist. “One.” Her voice cracked. She pointed outside. “Those beasts have pursued me all my life. I’ve managed to keep ahead of them and helped others to be free.” She swallowed. “It’s different this time.”