Reality's Plaything

by Will Greenway

  A wave of relief washed through Bannor. He thanked Odin that Janai had been there to mediate and make his stiff-necked mate bend a little.

  Janai nodded in satisfaction.

  The King slumped sideways on the throne and put chin on fist. When he spoke, his voice had softened. For the first time Bannor saw a hint of a Father’s love for his daughter. “What am I to do with you, Sarai? You defy me in front of these Lords and Ladies. You have this—this outburst.” His gaze flicked to the cratered wall where the fragments of stone had struck. “You also bring this human to us. Is there any reason you shouldn’t be charged and formally punished?”

  Sarai simply stared.

  Janai nudged her ankle. When she didn’t speak, the older sister kicked her. Sarai growled. “No Father, there isn’t. I—shouldn’t have run out.” She drew herself up straight. Her eyes glinted. “I’d like to think though that maybe it’s for the better. You see I am changed. I can serve Malan in ways I never did before. Bannor, aside from being a skilled warrior and tracker, has other talents.” She lowered her voice. “Talents that could benefit Malan in startling ways.”

  The King frowned. “What kind of ways?”

  Sarai closed her eyes. She took Bannor’s hand in both of hers. “I wish Mother were here so I could show you.”

  Bannor felt a tingle in the back of his head. His heart raced. The Nola twisted in his mind. Energy surged between him and Sarai. A shaft of light struck down from the ceiling a few paces away. The audience drew a breath. Sparks spiraled around the bright column. In a brilliant flash, a startled Kalindinai stood there, dressed in a loose silk blouse and breeches. Her long silvery hair was fastened in a braid.

  Bannor felt a wave of dizziness. He dropped to his knees weak from the drain. All around the room, elves let out gasps of surprise. The King’s jaw dropped.

  Kalindinai stared around the room and at all the assembled elves. The surprised look on her face turned to a scowl.

  The King gritted his teeth. Sarai looked ready to faint, but she smiled.

  The Queen pulled the black rod out of her sash. She gripped it white knuckled, eyes narrow. “What is going on, Jhaann? Who did that? Why wasn’t I apprised of this proceeding?”

  King T’Evagduran opened his mouth, and then shut it. Bannor saw nobles surreptitiously slipping out the back of the cavern.

  Sarai had summoned a reprieve. For now, the audience was over.

  * * *

  Spies are useful tools, but difficult to maintain. The best agents are moles who do not even know they work for you. The da-succorund is an avatar that does not remember being bound. They are the ultimate mole and one of my favorite tools…

  —From the Dedriad, ‘musings of an immortal’

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  « ^ »

  Bannor staggered down the tunnel supported by Sarai and her sister Janai. His legs ached, and his heart fluttered. Breaths came hard and sweat trickled down his face. Sarai’s tapping into his Nola had ripped away all his recovered strength. Now, every few moments, objects in his vision would spin like a pinwheel.

  Nobles brushed by them in the passage. None offered to help. Many pretended that the three of them didn’t exist. Others went as far as to turn and go another direction.

  Queen Kalindinai’s appearance in the middle of King T’Evagduran’s proceedings had brought everything to a halt like a spike driven into the spokes of a wagon. The discussion over the King’s failure to inform the Queen had already turned to shouting when three of them slipped out the back of the cavern.

  Since escaping, four words had gnawed at the back of Bannor’s mind. I told you so. He had told Sarai the whole audience business was a bad idea.

  He clenched his fists to keep from uttering it. He knew better. Speaking those words now would be like putting a razor to his throat. Typical of the unfair universe. For once he was right, and he couldn’t point it out.

  The three of them stopped at juncture between two caverns to catch their breath. Sarai thumped against the wall and slid down to her haunches. She wiped perspiration off her brow. Her feats of rock magic coupled with using the Garmtur to magically transport the Queen had obviously drained her.

  Bannor leaned against the cool rock wall. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. Sarai smiled up at him and kissed his knuckles.

  He looked around. Sputtering torches cast flickering light on the uneven stone. Somewhere nearby he smelled meat being roasted. He also detected the scent of needleleaf brought by frosty drafts of cold air. They must be close to the surface. If only he had the strength to charge up that tunnel and win his way back to the light. He hated these dark, dank confines.

  He took a breath and turned to Janai who leaned against the wall panting. “Janai,” he drew another breath, trying to get a whole sentence out. “I know your sister may not tell you, but for myself, I appreciate what you did. You helped get us out of that mess.”

  He felt a sharp sting in his wrist. He glanced to Sarai, who’d nipped him in the arm. Her violet eyes were narrowed in a warning stare. He’d sided with Janai during the ordeal with the King. Those glinting eyes said there’d be words about it later. Frowning, he drew his arm away and rubbed the spot where she’d bitten him.

  If Janai noticed the exchange, she didn’t respond to it. She only smiled. “Actually, I was protecting myself. Our older sister Ryelle threatened to break my leg if I didn’t watch over Sarai.” She glanced at her sister. “Don’t know why, but Ryelle is fond of our youngest.”

  “Why isn’t as important to me as the fact you did it. You took a chance for us, my thanks.”

  The older sister grinned at Bannor. “All gratitude is graciously accepted however you wish to express it.”

  “Stop it,” Sarai grumbled.

  Bannor kissed Janai on the cheek. “My gratitude.”

  The plump elf beamed. Bannor sighed. A man would have to be dead not to be enticed by this little seductress. He knew what she was doing, and it still worked.

  Sarai sniffed. “Don’t encourage her.”

  “Little Star, look around, these caverns aren’t exactly overflowing with allies. Nobody is on our side. I know you two have history, but we need friends now.”

  “I suppose,” Sarai grumbled.

  Janai stepped around Bannor and faced her sister. “Honestly, Sarai, I know I’ve been—nasty—before, but I never meant for us to be enemies.” She took one of Sarai’s hands in both of hers. “You don’t need to forgive me for everything. I’ve been a kah’dajk. Give me a chance to make it up?” Her eyes were round and sincere.

  The two stared at one another for long moments. Sarai closed her eyes and rocked her head against the wall. She sighed. “All right, peace between us.” Her eyes opened and she fixed Janai with a hard stare. “Until you start playing your old tricks.” She reached back and ripped a hunk of the wall out. She held up the chunk of granite and crumbled it between her fingers. “Understand?”

  Janai’s jaw dropped. “How in Carellion’s name..?” She bent and touched the gravel as if to verify its reality. “What’s happened to you?” Janai’s gaze shifted to him. “You did this to her, didn’t you?”

  He nodded.

  Right then, a group of elves passed them. Janai waited until they were out of hearing. “Let us go to my quarters where it’s private. Father won’t look for us there for a while.” She stepped to Bannor’s other side and pulled his arm around her neck. “Come on.”

  Janai’s quarters were lavish compared to their accommodations in the sick ward. Bolts of cloth had been spiked into the walls and hung like the draperies covering windows. Reed mats and throw rugs covered the floor and sprays of flowers had been placed strategically for color. Rock ledges and projections were utilized for hangers, racks and tables. Complemented by clever bits of woodworking, everything looked decorative as well as functional.

  Fragrant smoke curled from glowing censors that hung from the ceiling. Their flickering light gave the room a warm feel
ing.

  “Please sit,” Janai gestured them to some pillows in one corner. She went to a large chest that sat near what served as her dining table. She opened it and a puff of vapor hissed out. She removed a large gold decanter dripping with condensation and pulled some chalices from a shelf. She poured for all of them and brought it over.

  Bannor took his, the glass icy cool to the touch. He smelled the liquid. The odor reminded him of red berry. He guessed it must be a wine of some kind.

  Janai sipped from her cup and sat on a pillow across from them. “Father has been a beast since you left, Sarai. You made him extremely angry.”

  Sarai took a drink. “Good. I’d tired of being his errand girl. Mediate this. Take care of that. Whatever tasks nobody else would do. He knew I hated it.”

  “It’s because you did a good job.”

  She snorted. “It was to keep me busy.”

  Janai rolled her eyes. “Well, perhaps that too.”

  Bannor sampled his drink; it tasted like nectar of some kind, heavy and fermented. It made his tongue feel thick. The two sisters apparently enjoyed it. It was probably an acquired taste. For the moment, he was happy to simply sit and regain his strength. He must think of how to control the Garmtur. Sarai’s new ability to tap his power put them both at risk. How might he block it? He didn’t want to ask Wren. When he informed her of what Hecate said about Grahm and Rammal, she’d be shocked enough. The addition of a new problem with the Garmtur, would make the savant come apart at the seams.

  Sarai took a long drink and clacked the mug on the table. “Janai, I meant what I said to Father. I won’t marry some pig-boy son of Ivaneth. I’ve recognized Bannor. I won’t change my mind.”

  He felt a warm sensation at Sarai’s fierce defense of their relationship. Not so long ago, he’d begun doubting their future.

  Janai tugged at the long tail of her hair. “You certain that’s wise? Remember what Father did to Curtz?”

  “Curtz? You married him because Father hated him and mother didn’t. It was mean and calculated.”

  The older sister raised an eyebrow. “Really? And what you did back there in the audience chamber wasn’t?”

  Sarai scowled. “That’s different, Father deserved it.”

  Janai ran a tongue across her teeth. “Of course.”

  “Don’t take that tone with me.”

  The dark-haired princess looked at Sarai sidelong. “What kind of tone would you like me to have?”

  “Ladies,” Bannor leaned forward and interrupted what would likely be an acerbic remark from Sarai. “Didn’t we just make peace?”

  Both women stared at him. He took a sip from his cup and glanced from Sarai to Janai.

  The older sister sighed. “Old habits.”

  Sarai growled something unintelligible.

  “Believe it or not,” he said. “Sisters and brothers can talk without insults, barbs and accusations.”

  Janai put both elbows on the table and put her chin in her palms. She spoke in a wistful tone just short of sarcastic. “Am I imagining it, sister, or did the barbarian just tell us about being civil? The man from lands that can’t go two decades without a war?”

  Bannor felt heat rise in his cheeks. He pointed a finger at the older princess. “Arminwen, don’t you dare lump the hard-working folk in with the anvil-brained, greedy sons of goats who used to rule in the south.” His voice rose more than he wanted it to. “We fought because we were put to the gallows if we didn’t!”

  Janai blanched, taken aback by the volume of his voice.

  Sarai put a hand on his arm. “Bannor’s brother Rammal died in the hill war in Southrealm; Balhadd’s child army.”

  The dark-haired elf winced. “Apologies, Bannor, I did not know.”

  He regained his composure with effort. “My apologies, Arminwen, I should not have raised my voice. It is a sore point.”

  “That, I saw.” She took a breath. “Perhaps we should change the subject.” At his and Sarai’s nod she went on. “You going to share how you acquired that marvelous ability with the stone, Sarai?”

  “Bannor gave it to me.”

  “I know that. You said as much. How?”

  Sarai looked at him. She seemed to consider what she would say. “Wild magic,” she finally said.

  Wild magic? What was that? Was Sarai planning on lying?

  Janai’s face lit up with surprise. “Wild magic? You mean he’s a wilder like Mother? Does she know?”

  “No,” Sarai replied.

  “Yes,” Bannor answered at the same time.

  “What?” Sarai gave him a startled look. “She does?”

  “Oh, Kalindinai knows exactly what I am,” Bannor emphasized, gaze fixed on her.

  Sarai’s violet eyes narrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  He took a sip of the heavy nectar. He was growing accustomed to the syrupy texture and taste. “Little Star, I haven’t gotten a chance. You’ve done all the talking. I’ve been lucky to say anything.”

  “How?”

  Bannor answered with a shrug. Sarai’s stare turned penetrating. Her voice dropped. “How?”

  “She was scolding Wren and I…” He sighed.

  “And—?” Sarai prompted.

  He gritted his teeth. “Well, it—slipped out. I thought you would have told her.”

  His mate’s voice fell flat. “It—slipped—out.”

  “So?” Janai asked. “He’s a wilder. What’s so bad?”

  “Damn it. This changes everything.”

  “Changes what!?” Janai burst out. “What does his being a wilder change? Why would Mother knowing make any difference?”

  Sarai gritted her teeth. She muttered a curse word in elvish. “You might as well know. I didn’t tell you the truth. Bannor isn’t a wilder. He’s a savant; a Garmtur Shak’Nola.”

  Janai’s eyes widened and her face went ashen. “A chaos bringer? Father will—oh my—he’ll—oh my—” She grabbed her cup and took a deep gulp. “It’s Bannor the avatars are after, right?”

  Sarai nodded.

  “Oh, my.” Janai fell back in pillows behind her. “This is bad.”

  The chamber went quiet.

  A feminine voice came from the doorway behind them. “Sorry to interrupt, can I come in?”

  Bannor turned. Wren leaned in the opening dressed in a gown of blue silk. The savant’s normally plain face was scrubbed and colored with toner and rouge. Her short blonde hair had been coiffed like the court ladies Bannor had seen in the audience chamber. Necklaces hung from her neck and rings sparkled on her fingers.

  Was this the savant he’d been with for almost a month?

  She looked like royalty.

  “Wren?” Surprise made his voice a whisper.

  Janai sat up, joyful recognition on her face. She bounced to her feet. “Liandra! How did you get here?” She ran toward Wren.

  The savant froze like a blackhorn caught in the glare of hunter’s lantern as Janai threw her arms around her neck. She returned the elf’s hug as if not knowing what to do with her arms. She looked over the shorter woman’s shoulder toward Bannor with a perplexed expression and silently mouthed the words ‘who is she?’.

  Janai stepped back, obviously detecting the savant’s reticence. She frowned. “What’s the matter, Li? Surely, you haven’t forgotten?”

  Wren’s eyes were wide. She held her hands palms up as if to ask for forgiveness and shook her head.

  Janai appeared shaken. “Cosmodarus, twenty-odd summers ago, we toured the countryside. Spent some twenty ten-days together!”

  The savant’s jaw dropped. “You met me when Mishaka ruled Cosmodarus?”

  Janai stepped back, hands on hips. “Ruled? Mishaka was prime minister. She didn’t rule.”

  “She was an avatar!” Wren growled.

  “Wait!” Sarai held up a hand. “I think there’s been some mistake. Janai, this is our friend, Wren.”

  “Wren?” Janai scowled. “No, this is Liandra Kergatha, first pri
ncess of Cosmodarus.”

  “No—”

  Wren held up both hands. “She’s right, my birth name is Liandra. I don’t go by it anymore is all. She probably did meet me then. Except it wasn’t me.”

  “What?” Bannor asked.

  “Pardon?” Janai said, taking another step back.

  Wren shook her head. “Long story. Mishaka the avatar held my family captive for fifteen summers, she put imposters in the place of my brother and myself to keep loyals in the kingdom from learning she’d taken over. There’s more, but I don’t have time to tell it.”

  Sarai stood. “What’s wrong Wren?”

  “I need an audience with your Father. I heard some scouts talking. They’ve seen Irodee and DacWhirter. It couldn’t be anyone else: a giant, black-haired woman and dwarf together. We need to leave right away. They’re near the gathering place of the avatar’s forces. Irodee may think we’re prisoners and that the avatars have taken us through the gate. We have to get to them before they try to go in.”

  The timing couldn’t have been worse. Bannor shook his head. “I don’t think Sarai can help, Wren. She and her father, well—”

  “The audience didn’t go as planned,” Janai said.

  Wren stiffened. “Bad?”

  “A disaster,” he muttered. He flinched when Sarai smacked his shoulder.

  Janai still gazed at Wren as if stunned. “It really wasn’t you?”

  Wren sighed and shook her head.

  “We really had a good time together. You seem exactly like her, though.” Janai stopped. “Or, I guess she was exactly like you.”

  The savant winced. “What do we do? We have to go to them!”

  Janai drew herself up, glanced at Sarai, Bannor and then at Wren. “I can get you what you want; one condition, though.”