The Wandering War--The Sleeping King Trilogy, Book 3

by Cindy Dees

  He stared. “How do you come by the Spirit Stag’s antler from our foster father’s trophy room?”

  “One of your Kithmar friends used it to kill Leland.”

  Eben’s gaze narrowed to angry slits. “The same tiger changeling was one of my captors. He bragged of killing Hyland.”

  “I’ll give you him to kill if I can have Anton for myself,” she replied icily.

  “Deal.”

  “Come, brother. I must speak with Vesper. I have several items to deliver to her.” Marikeen linked her hand around his elbow and strolled back toward their diminutive benefactress.

  “How is it you can bring physical items onto the dream plane? Do you come here by some other means than dreaming?” Eben asked in surprise.

  “Nay, I dreamed my way here this night, just like you.”

  “How can you tell I dreamed my way here?” he demanded.

  “After a while in this realm, you will develop an eye for phantasms versus dreaming constructs of material people, and corporeal beings walking this plane.”

  “You did not answer my question. If you are a dreaming construct of yourself, how did you bring a physical object here?”

  “I always was the more talented mage of the two of us. I have been learning new tricks since I left your side, little brother. My new friends know all kinds of clever things to do with magic. Some of them you would not believe if I showed you.”

  “What items did you bring for Vesper in this dream of yours, then?”

  “Patience, Eben. They are for Vesper, and only to her will I reveal or relinquish them.”

  She always had been the secretive type. He rolled his eyes and walked beside her in silence as they approached Vesper.

  “Do you have them?” the little girl demanded impatiently.

  “Would I ever disappoint you, my lady?” Marikeen answered fondly.

  “Nay. Not you. I am your favorite,” Vesper replied.

  Marikeen laughed a little. “Indeed, you are.”

  Eben stopped beside his sister just in front of Vesper. The Gaged Man tensed slightly, indicating his discomfort with the two of them approaching his mistress so closely. Keeping an eye on the warrior, Eben bowed low when his sister did.

  “Well, hand them over!” Vesper cried impatiently.

  Marikeen opened her pouch and pulled out a pair of completely innocuous baubles—a leather hair band and what looked like some sort of tooth or fang.

  Vesper snatched the objects out of Marikeen’s palm and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. “Ah, Marikeen, they are perfect. Well done. Well done, indeed!”

  Vesper seemed barely aware of their presence. Eventually, she pulled a barrette out of her own pouch and tied the hair band to it, forming one hair adornment out of the two.

  Eben leaned close to Marikeen to whisper, “Why is she so happy over a few bits of trash?”

  “Because those bits of trash belong to people over whom she wishes to exert control,” Marikeen muttered back sotto voce. “Watch and learn.”

  Vesper was rubbing the two objects continuously between her palms, round and round in slow, tiny circles. The child’s lips moved, but if she made any sound aloud, it was too quiet for Eben to hear.

  “Bring me three phantasms!” Vesper ordered abruptly. “Undifferentiated but powerful. As powerful as can be found.”

  One of the elementals floating along behind Vesper bowed gracefully. “So shall it be, Your Highness.”

  “She’s a princess?” Eben whispered in shock. “Since when?”

  “Since she was born,” Marikeen answered back under her breath in exasperation.

  It seemed to take but a few minutes for Vesper’s order to be fulfilled, but Eben got a momentary sense of time not working the same way here as it did elsewhere. Three wispy white creatures drifted on currents of air to stand side by side in front of Vesper, wavering vaguely.

  “Which one of you is the most accomplished warrior?” Vesper demanded.

  Two of them pointed at the third. To that one, Vesper reached to her own hip and pulled out a magnificent white-bladed long sword. “By this object, shall you control your host. Give it to him, and guard it well when you control his mind. The blade is unbreakable by any human means. As long as it is whole, so shall your control of your host be complete.”

  “What a blade!” Eben muttered as Vesper handed over the gleaming, milky white weapon. He’d never seen a sword so gracefully shaped and yet deadly looking.

  “That’s Dragon’s Tooth,” Marikeen murmured back. “It once belonged to the greatest warrior in Haelos. And now that warrior will belong to Vesper.”

  To the other two phantasms, Vesper held out the claw and barrette. “Each one of you shall take one of these,” she ordered.

  The wraithlike beings did as instructed, and as Eben looked on, each one gradually began to take on the height and dimension of humanoids. One became a petite ghost of an elf—female, if he had to guess—but too insubstantial to be certain. And the other took on an older, slightly bent form that hinted of a rather grizzled humanoid male, maybe a hydesmyn. If Eben looked directly at them, he looked clear through the ghostly forms, but if he glimpsed them indirectly out of the corner of his eye, they looked very much like living people.

  “Learn their skills, absorb their temperaments,” Vesper ordered. “You will have need of both on the mission I have for you.”

  Eben stared, amazed, as first clothing and then gear took shape on all three phantasms. The creatures themselves began to transform even more. Their ghostly forms began to take on vague tints of color. The general curves of humanoids refined into recognizable individuals. Then facial features, hair, eyes, hands, and fingers began to take shape. It was as if he watched invisible hands mold a human being out of magical clay. The transparent quality of the morphing flesh gave way to firm, textured skin.

  In a few minutes, three fully formed, totally real-looking adults dressed in the garb of adventurers stood before him, every freckle, wrinkle, and dimple in flesh, every button and thread in clothing faithfully reproduced. Had he not known they were phantasms, he would never have guessed it.

  Which begged the question, could faked people like these get away with walking among the living for a time, spying on humans, and doing the work of this terrifying child?

  Vesper said silkily, “Now learn their minds. Absorb their thoughts, their feelings, their gestures. Everything that makes them who they are. Become them.”

  Eben stared, shocked. She was talking about possession. That was among the most taboo of all known magics, an act universally reviled and feared. The taking over of another person’s mind and thoughts, his or her actions and reactions—

  The mere idea made him shudder in horror. And yet Vesper casually prepared to do that very thing.

  For her part, Marikeen observed with deep, albeit academic-looking, interest. She asked, “So you fashion the phantasm first and then send it to inhabit the Urthbound body? And what of the actual spirits of the intended targets?”

  Vesper answered in an offhand manner as if this was a thing she did every day, “I wait until they sleep and then trap their dreaming minds here in this realm. The objects you brought me will act as the lock on their dreaming prisons. As long as the object is intact, the prison remains intact. Once they’re trapped here, the phantasms have no problem inhabiting and controlling the bodies.”

  “What if a target awakens or resists the phantasm?” Marikeen pressed.

  Vesper shrugged. “A powerful phantasm can overwhelm the will of any sleeping human mind, but powerful phantasms are rare and difficult to bend to one’s will, even here. Better to trap the target’s sleeping mind and use weaker phantasms like these three who are biddable to my wishes.”

  Indeed, the three phantasms stood quietly, as docile and obedient as sheep.

  “Won’t people who know the three humans realize they’re acting differently? That their personalities have changed?” Eben challenged.

  Vesper sh
rugged. “Within a day or so, the phantasms will have absorbed enough of their hosts’ memories, thought patterns, and tactile impressions that they will be nearly indistinguishable from the originals. Every one I’ve put in place so far has gone undetected.”

  Eben’s jaw sagged. Just how many of these phantasmal re-creations of human spirits were walking around possessing human hosts on her behalf? The notion made his skin crawl.

  Marikeen leaned in close to murmur, “Never fear, brother. The magics required to create and control phantasmal doppelgängers are enormous. Very few beings alive on any plane have the skill to pull off such a thing.”

  And yet Vesper was one of those beings? He eyed the little girl with renewed caution. Just how powerful were the Kothites? If she was indeed the scion of her father, Archduke Ammertus, her abilities were but short shadows in comparison to his. And the Emperor was said to be vastly more powerful than any of his highest-ranking nobles.

  One of the phantasms, the petite elven woman, said, “She sleeps. I feel it.”

  “Patience, my pet,” Vesper murmured. “I would have you wait until the others sleep, as well.”

  “They will post a guard,” the elf declared.

  Vesper scowled in disgust. “Of course. It figures that this trio would be cautious. Fine. You may go now. And when it is your turn on the watch, let me know, and I will send your companions.”

  “Have you any other orders for me?”

  “Indeed, I do. I have orders for all of you.”

  Eben shuddered as all three of those impassive, empty stares turned to lock on their mistress.

  “Once you are firmly in control of your hosts, you are to use all their knowledge and skills to search out and seize any items that once belonged to an ancient king of these lands.”

  Eben’s blood and bones turned to ice right where he stood. She knew about Gawaine? But how? And why did she search out his regalia? This could not be good. Impatience to wake up and report this alarming news to his friends coursed through him.

  “Do you ail, brother?” Marikeen murmured.

  “Nay, I am fine. Well, not exactly fine,” he added hastily, remembering how easily and well she could read him. “I am a little uncomfortable with the idea of possession in general.”

  Marikeen shrugged. “I’ve seen bigger and more impressive effects.”

  He didn’t want to know what was more impressive than taking over an entire human being. “When we wake up, come join me and my friends, Mar.”

  “What are you up to now? Still wandering the wild lands?”

  “Yes. We’re exploring the Sorrow Wold and the western reaches beyond it.”

  “No, thank you. I like my warm bed, a roof, and nice clothes. I want my servants and little luxuries. You can keep your rough camping.” She shuddered as she spoke.

  “It’s not that bad,” he retorted, “and you always were a sissy.”

  “Hah.”

  “Hah!”

  They glared at each other and then dissolved into laughter. It had been far too long since they’d argued with one another.

  “I miss you, Marikeen.”

  “And I you, Eben. Come join me.”

  “Maybe I will when I get back from the west. Where will I find you?”

  “At the moment, I am in the northern Lochlands. When you are ready to join me, I will give you exact directions to find me.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Vesper moved off a little way, and Eben lowered his voice. “What is the child up to? Why this huge army?”

  “Why do you think?” Marikeen asked.

  “Obviously, she plans to invade the material plane. She has already tried once and failed.”

  “Ah, but did she fail?”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “She now is able to send agents and phantasms to the material plane at will. I and others are able to bring physical items to this plane. Her power has grown exponentially after the incursion through the gate, wouldn’t you say?”

  Eben tried not to stare but failed. “To what end?” he breathed.

  “What end does every powerful being strive toward?” she asked cynically.

  Leland Hyland had long taught them both that power begat lust for more power in all but the noblest and most disciplined of people. Their foster father had striven to raise them and his son, Kendrick, to be that noble and disciplined. And for that, Eben had loved and admired him without reservation.

  He thought his sister had felt the same way, but here she was, bringing items to Vesper that allowed the child to possess other human beings. Had Leland failed with Marikeen? Had he, himself, somehow failed her?

  “I know I lost touch with you for a while, Marikeen, and I feel terrible about failing to rescue you, but I promise I will not let you down again. Anytime you have need of me, you have but to ask, and I will be there. You are family.”

  She smiled, and he thought he saw genuine fondness in her eyes, but she was so difficult to read these days. So different. She had a hardness, an intense focus about her; that was new. He got the distinct impression she was not delivering items to Vesper out of the goodness of her heart. Marikeen pursued some agenda of her own, but he could not for the life of him fathom what it might be. And that worried him.

  * * *

  Will woke to the sounds of giggles, the likes of which he had not heard for upward of a year. He groaned and rolled over in his hammock, peeling one eyelid open just far enough to glare at a pair of dryads, heads together, whispering and giggling behind their hands.

  “Yes, I’m Will Cobb,” he grumbled. “And no, your charms won’t work on me. Go away. I’m sleeping.”

  “But the sun is above the horizon, Will Cobb,” one of them twittered.

  “By how much?” he snapped.

  “Almost a thumb’s width.”

  “Go away or I’ll throw my boot at you.”

  The pair scampered off, disappearing abruptly. He’d grown accustomed to the fae creatures’ ability to walk into solid trees and pop out of them just as easily. At least he knew now that the Sorrow Wold had enough enchantment within it to support the magical groves necessary for dryads to survive. He’d begun to wonder as they’d walked through its dank, rotting, and dead depths yesterday. Even Lord Bloodroot had been put off by the wold’s decay.

  Although the tree spirit within him championed death and the completion of the cycle of life, apparently whatever was going on in the Sorrow Wold was well outside of that natural cycle.

  Curse it. The dryads had woken him up enough that his brain had gotten going. Now he would never get back to sleep. Irritated, he rolled out of his hammock and stepped into the boots he’d threatened to toss at the dryads. He laced them up, stowed his staff in the sling across his back, and stepped out of the tree house in search of breakfast.

  He smelled cook fires on the breeze but did not see any. Following his nose, he crossed a hair-raising rope and wood-slat bridge, and he entered a large, round house that seemed to mark the center of the village high in the trees. Up here, sunlight penetrated a lush canopy of green and vibrant leaves. No wonder the local kindari chose to live up here. So would he.

  Moto and Raina looked up from where they sat beside the fire, chatting.

  “You’re looking none the worse for wear,” Moto commented. “Most first timers get sick as dogs smoking kindari tobacco.”

  Will shrugged. “I’m forest born and bred. Me and the other lads in the hollow snuck tobacco out of our fathers’ pouches all the time.”

  Raina passed him a bowl of some sort of grain-and-berry porridge. “Moto says he has a surprise for me in a day or two.”

  “Does that mean we’re going to stay here in this pleasant, sunny place with dry beds and defenses against goblins, and let your guide find you?” he asked hopefully.

  Raina laughed. “I don’t know. I hope to speak with the local elders about that. Maybe they can advise me on how to go about finding my guide.”

  Giv
en that Moto didn’t ask for more details, he gathered Raina had already spoken to the pyresti about a Mage of Alchizzadon coming to fetch her. And given the disgusted look on Moto’s face, Will gathered that perhaps Moto had some knowledge of the mages.

  The other members of their party wandered into the common room over the next hour, save Eben. All the others were long done with breakfast and almost finished repairing their armor and sharpening weapons after last night’s fight before the jann stumbled into the open space, rubbing his face.

  “You look like death if it had a bad day,” Will teased his friend.

  “Are you in need of healing?” Raina asked quickly.

  “I must look bad if you’re offering healing,” Eben replied groggily.

  “Rough night’s sleep?” Rynn asked.

  “Unexpected dreams,” Eben answered the paxan shortly.

  “Ah.” A pregnant pause, then Rynn asked, “Anything to report?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact.” Eben’s voice dropped. “It turns out we’re not the only ones chasing the goals we’ve been pursuing.”

  Will noticed that Raina visibly paled. “That goal?” she asked.

  “Yup.”

  “Who?” Raina breathed.

  “Our very young-looking friend.”

  Rynn sucked in a breath. “If she gets to … the one we seek … first, I cannot imagine what would happen.”

  Rosana murmured reassuringly, “She’s not even on this plane. Your dream of her could have been nothing more than a regular dream, made up in your imagination. For all we know, she’s not doing anything to chase down old hearth tales or even to think about coming to this plane.”

  Rynn winced. “Actually, we do. My own dreams have been troubled of late, and powerful forces are moving in the Realm of Dreams.”

  “Yes, but she’s just a little girl,” Rosana protested.

  Rynn retorted, “Consider Emperor Maximillian when he was a little boy, after all his mental powers manifested themselves and he had hundreds of years to learn how to use them. Would you dismiss him as a threat simply because of his age?”

  Rosana scowled. “That’s not a fair comparison. He’s the most powerful Kothite of them all.”