The Purifying Fire: A Planeswalker Novel

by Laura Resnick

  She sat down on the floor of her dark room and began by focusing on her breathing.

  In, out. Slow. Even. Relaxed. Inhale, exhale.

  Each time a thought intruded, she banished it and focused again on her breathing.

  Innnnnn. Outtttt.

  With each cycle of her slow, rhythmic breathing, her bond grew stronger with the eternal flow of mana throughout the Multiverse and its infinite planes. Her bond to mana, that ethereal fuel for all magic, was strong on Regatha, and she would use it to carry her through, but there were other planes and other sources of mana ready for those who understood the use of the power.

  Chandra felt a welcome tingle of heat begin to flow through her. She opened herself further, accepting the intense flow. She felt fire in her blood, in her bones, in her belly. She heard the roar of flames around her, and she felt their glow all through her body.

  Still concentrating on maintaining a deep, relaxed breathing pattern, she sensed her physical presence on Regatha beginning to dissolve into flames as she slipped into the Blind Eternities. As she disappeared from her humble bedchamber into the hot blaze of a fiery chasm, she recognized the formless void that existed outside of time and space.

  Green, blue, white, red, black. Undulating rivers of vibrant, multi-colored mana swirled around her in a dizzying whirlwind. Overhead. Underfoot. On all sides. Tumbling like waterfalls, twining like ribbons. Vibrating like the strings of a harp, filling her senses, flowing endlessly …

  She moved as if swimming in invisible lava, pushing her way through something rich and heavy that she could neither see nor touch, but which surrounded her, engulfed her, and melded itself to her. Its fiery heat both energized and drained her, consorting with that Spark inside her, that innate quality that kept her from being devoured by the void.

  She spread her hands wide, palms facing outward, and concentrated, trying to sense the energy of the planes echoing throughout the Multiverse. She had been to Kephalai once before, so this journey was easier than the other. Even though there was no path, she recognized the way. She sensed where Kephalai lay in the tumult of her surroundings, and she willed herself to journey toward it. There was no herald, no marker. She sensed the energy flowing from a particular source, and she recognized it with comforting certainty as Kephalai.

  She sought entry to the plane, a way through the shifting veils in her path, coming between her and her goal. Calling on all her power, she propelled herself toward the plane like a flaming arrow, shooting herself into physical reality once more.

  “Ungh!” Chandra grunted as she was flung physically against something very hard, flat, and broad. She bounced off it and fell down to an equally hard surface. She lay there limp, breathless, trying not to pass out.

  All right, the journey had gone well, but the arrival was a little bumpy.

  She lay facedown on the stony ground, her ribs heaving as she gasped for breath, and a chill creeping across her sweat-drenched back and arms as the cool air of Kephalai washed over her.

  She opened one eye and saw that she had bounced off a stone wall. No wonder it had hurt. The building nearby and the stone paving beneath her cheek were both a cool, pale gray. She thought she smelled dead fish, an odor so rank that even the gulls she saw circling overhead might decline a free meal.

  “Mummy, look!” cried a child.

  “No, dear, stay away from her,” said a woman’s voice.

  Chandra rolled over and looked up at the woman and small child who were walking past her. They were both fair-skinned, with the blonde hair and blue eyes that were common on Kephalai. The woman was holding the little boy’s hand, and she had a well-bundled sleeping baby nestled in her other arm. She and the boy both wore cloaks over their clothing.

  “Is it morning or afternoon?” Chandra asked, shivering a little. The cloud cover made it impossible to tell.

  The woman scowled at her. “Women like you should stay off the streets by day and leave them safe for decent folk and innocent children!”

  Chandra stared after the woman as she stomped away, dragging her little boy with her. “Some things don’t change, wherever you go,” she muttered.

  She took a steadying breath and slowly hauled herself to her feet, wincing a little as she did so. She’d definitely have some bruises as souvenirs of her arrival on this plane. She rubbed a hand over her thigh and was glad that the claw wound there hadn’t split open as a result of her crash landing. It might leave a scar, but it was still healing well.

  Chandra looked around to get her bearings. She recognized the place, having been there before. Rising above the water on the other side of the harbor was the bridge where she’d had to seriously blow some things up so that she could leave Kephalai. She grinned when she saw there was still a heap of tumbled stone from the damage she’d done, including some hideous statue she’d destroyed. That hadn’t been intentional, but there was no denying that Kephalai was a better looking place without it.

  Chandra tensed when she heard screeching overhead. Looking into the sky, she relaxed when she saw only birds flying above. One of the nastier surprises of her previous adventure here had been the gargoyles from the Prelate’s palace. Two of them had captured Chandra and carried her above the city, hauling her off to captivity. If she was going to steal the scroll again, she’d need to do something about those creatures.

  Getting her bearings, Chandra turned away from the harbor and started making her way along the city’s crowded flagstone streets. The first order of business, obviously, was to see if the scroll was back in the Sanctum of Stars. Then she could decide what to do next.

  The Sanctum of Stars was a sort of combined museum and treasury in the heart of the city. It was a repository of such rich, diverse, and rare objects that its renown extended beyond the plane. She spotted the Sanctum easily, though she was still some distance from it. Its pale stone spire rose majestically above the domed buildings surrounding it. Chandra crossed another bridge that stretched over one of the city’s many canals. While walking in the direction of her goal, she considered how to approach this situation.

  She had been seen by some of the Prelate’s guards when she eluded capture during her previous visit there. And for all she knew, that tricky mage who’d followed her to Regatha could be lurking under a rock somewhere near. Obviously, she should avoid being recognized by anyone who had seen her before, or to whom a description could have been circulated. The problem was how to know who that might be. Chandra’s appearance was distinctive, especially on Kephalai. She was taller than most of the inhabitants of Kephalai and her red hair, golden skin, and amber-flecked eyes stood out in a society where most of the people were fair-skinned, blue-eyed, and blonde-haired.

  Since the air was chilly, she decided to confiscate a hooded cloak. If she covered her hair with a hood and kept her eyes shyly downcast, she ought to be able to enter the Sanctum of Stars without arousing much suspicion. It was a much-visited place, after all—and although her height and coloring were unusual here, Chandra didn’t think these features alone would attract attention.

  She found the garment-makers’ district by asking a passing stranger for directions. Once there, she soon found her opportunity to acquire a cloak when a couple of careless lads took a break while loading up a cart with garments. Chandra didn’t want to waste a whole day earning enough local coin to buy a cloak by performing fire tricks in a city square. With silent apologies to the merchant from whom she was stealing, she stealthily took a cloak from the back of the cart.

  As she approached the Sanctum of Stars on foot, Chandra scraped the hair away from her face, tucked it under her collar as best she could, and pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. She was glad for its warmth in the chilly air.

  If there were extra security here now, it wasn’t obvious from the outside. The building still looked exactly the way it had looked before. Chandra admired the round stained-glass window in the center of the pale gray spire. The sapphire-blue glass had a large, glowing, eigh
t-pointed white star embedded in it. She looked warily at the gargoyles squatting strategically around the spire, since it seemed likely that they, too, could turn into dangerous pursuers if given the command. But at the moment, at least, they were still.

  She knew from previous reconnaissance that admission to the Sanctum of Stars was open to all by day, though visitors were prohibited from bringing weapons into the building. There was no body search at the door, just a death penalty and prompt execution for anyone who violated the rule, a deterrent that had kept the Sanctum murder-free for nearly a century.

  Keeping her eyes downcast, Chandra added a slight stoop to her posture and started limping a little. Overall, it was a weak diguise, but her hair was covered and she might be taken for an invalid of sorts.

  She limped up to the entrance and, with her gaze on the stone steps at her feet, spoke in a bashful, age-weary voice to ask for permission to enter to the museum. The bored guard at the door granted it and let her enter. She went inside and, rather than make a beeline for the display case where she hoped to find the scroll again, she made herself meander around the exhibits for a while, pretending to admire the many exotic objects and rare artifacts in which she had no interest.

  Moving slowly and maintaining the outward appearance of a bashful invalid, she gradually made her way to the big glass case where, on her last visit, four precious scrolls had been displayed. Originally, she had simply smashed the case and removed the scroll she’d wanted. She could see as she approached that the case had been replaced and that there were four scrolls inside it.

  Chandra’s heart thudded. Yes. The scroll was there! With Brother Segril’s description, she could identify it easily. There was also a distinctive scorch mark on the leather casing, and a big dent in the gold end piece.

  Unfortunately, she still had no idea what it contained. Given that it was rolled up, its contents firmly hidden, she could not understand why it was displayed to the public. What was interesting about a rolled piece of paper? It could be some scribe’s to-do list for all anyone knew.

  Still, there was no question: she’d have to steal it a second time.

  She was still gazing at it, trying to think of a plan, when two pairs of strong hands seized her from behind—one assailant for each arm—and a deep, booming voice said, “Chandra Nalaar, by the authority vested in me, I arrest you for crimes against the Prelate, the Sanctum of Stars, and the people of Kephalai!”

  Chandra was stunned speechless. She raised her head as her two captors whirled her around with brute force; her hood fell back, and a rough hand yanked her long red hair out of her collar so that it fell freely around her shoulders.

  There was a fairly good-sized crowd of visitors here. Most of them were staring in surprised fascination at Chandra, who was held firmly by two guards, one of whom had pressed the blade of his sword against her throat. She stared in bemusement at the third guard, a stocky, middle-aged man who didn’t look remotely familiar. He had just used her name when arresting her.

  How could he possibly know …

  Oh, no.

  The planeswalker who had come to Regatha! He had known her name, too. Had she really thought he’d have just returned the scroll and left again?

  She looked quickly around the Sanctum, but she didn’t see the planeswalker. She froze in appalled surprise, though, when she did see …

  “Telepaths?” she guessed.

  There were two of them. Both women. They emerged from their concealment walking arm in arm. Their bald heads reflected the lights of the Sanctum as their hairless brows cast shadows over unnaturally bright eyes. She saw that their skin was eerily white, and they wore identical pale blue robes with an unfamiliar dark blue symbol embroidered on the left shoulder. They stared hard at Chandra. She nodded, answering her own question. “Telepaths.”

  Chandra realized that her physical disguise had been pointless. These two had probably been reading everyone who entered the building!

  Fine, read this: drop dead you creepy, bald hags!

  The two women blinked in unison.

  Well, this was just great. The intruder had returned the scroll to the Sanctum of Stars, told them her name, and told them she might be back. They had obviously prepared for this. She had just as obviously walked into a trap.

  That fact became even clearer as about two dozen soldiers now poured into the hall, moving with swift, well-rehearsed efficiency.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  Eight of the soldiers took charge of organizing the departure of the gawking visitors. The rest of them surrounded Chandra, weapons drawn. In addition to swordsmen, there were six archers among them who drew their bows and pointed their arrows directly at her.

  “Now, now, let’s all stay calm,” she said. “I’m sure we can discuss our differences like reasonable adults.”

  One of the mind mages warned the guards, “She intends to fight.”

  Chandra scowled and tried to block their probing. She knew she was stronger, if she could concentrate. But for Chandra it was actually the opposite. Her mind was racing with possibility. Thoughts were moving in her head with such imprecision, that she barely knew she was thinking. She did know, however, that this whole situation was making her very mad.

  They sensed it, or rather they sensed that Chandra’s fuse was short. The telepath who had spoken before told the head guard, “We can’t read her. She’s too erratic.”

  The other one said, “Keep hold of her.”

  The head guard said impatiently to one of his men, “Where are the Enervants? They’re supposed to be here!”

  “Enervants?” Chandra said. “That’s some nerve showing up late for the party.” This was no time for jokes, but she couldn’t help it.

  “The Prelate told me you’d be back,” the head guard said. “I said no one was that reckless, but she said that you might be.

  So the Prelate of Kephalai had indeed enlisted the planeswalker to retrieve the scroll from Regatha. And he’d reported to the Prelate.

  “All right, so I’ve come back,” Chandra said, assessing the situation. “Now what?”

  “Now I turn you over the Enervants.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “Actually,” the guard said, “I don’t think you’ll like them. They are particularly suited to breaking the will of even the most headstrong. It is said they enjoy torturing their subjects in the way most would enjoy a fine meal. They savor it. They take time over the courses, but are not so gluttonous that they don’t leave a helping for the rats. I should imagine they will have a particularly good time with you.”

  There were more than twenty armed guards, a closed space, no visible exits, a scroll to liberate, a couple of mind mages who might have other tricks up their floppy blue sleeves … And whoever the Enervants were, they didn’t sound like a crowd Chandra really wanted to meet.

  “You’re right,” she said. “The Enervants are late. I don’t like anyone who isn’t punctual.”

  She was worried about the fragility of the scroll. She hadn’t come all the way to Kephalai to destroy it by accident. However, like it or not, she only saw one viable option now.

  “Have you ever heard of Jaya Ballard? No? No, of course not. My teacher’s always quoting her, and I get a little tired of it. But I have to admit, once in a while, there’s some good advice there.”

  She made her decision. Fire, scroll, fire.

  “For example,” Chandra said, feeling heat pour through her. “Jaya said, ‘when in doubt …’” Fire licked her veins, her skin, her fingertips. “‘Use the biggest boom you know.’”

  The sound of steel being drawn from scabbards was decisive. The guards were poised for attack, arrows were knocked and drawn, but they hesitated as a small ball of white-hot flame emanated from Chandra’s core. It didn’t seem like much to them.

  Chandra, meanwhile, concentrated on the on the ball as best as she could. As magical energy flowed into her, the ball expanded rapidly to the size of a human head and Chandra sa
gged a bit, as if the spell had failed. The ball remained where it was, quivering impotently like a mass of gelatin.

  “That’s not much of a boom,” said one of the guards and the tension drained from the room, as many lowered their weapons laughing.

  As they did so, Chandra sharpened her focus and the ball collapsed into an infinitesimal point before exploding with such force that it knocked everyone in the room off their feet. Arrows were incinerated, clothing set afire, and the swords of the guards were suddenly searing the flesh of their palms. Luckily the telepaths had no hair to burn, but the stench from the others in the room was more than Chandra had bargained for.

  Immune to the blast herself, Chandra turned to smash the glass case but saw that her blast had already done so. She reached inside and grabbed the scroll, which seemed unharmed.

  She heard screams all around her. People in panic, burning. People in pain.

  “Kill her! Kill her!” someone shouted hoarsely.

  Calling on all of her power, on everything she had left, Chandra formed another ball of fire in her free hand and cast it at the wall. The fiery explosion blew out an entire wall of the Sanctum. She squinted against the flying dust and debris, coughing as she inhaled. She ran through the burning chaos and out of the building. Four guards who had survived the explosions were hot on her heels, shouting, “Stop that woman!”

  People in the crowded streets were screaming, too terrified by the explosion to pay any attention to one fleeing woman and the bloody, dirty soldiers running after her.

  The Sanctum’s structure was more precarious than it looked. Without that wall supporting its fourth side, the building began to cave in on itself.

  Chandra heard the tremendous crack of splintering stone and the crash of collapsing walls and floors. Despite the soldiers right behind her, she turned to look. What she saw was so startling, she stopped running and just stood there and stared in shock at her handiwork. So did the soldiers who, moments ago, had been so intent on killing her.