by O. J. Lowe
“I think it’s big,” Claudia said. “It doesn’t surprise me that there’s a legend like that floating around. But if you’re telling the truth, if that is the true story then how come nobody has managed to get through it? How come nobody could prove it one way or another? How come it’s just a legend?”
Again, that smile. She fought the urge to slap him. It wouldn’t do anyone any good, as much as it might make her feel better.
“Because anyone with the ability to open it by force should know better,” he said. “And those without the ability lack the key. Punching a hole through the fabric of reality is not a task taken on lightly, it’s a dangerous undertaking and only someone truly desperate would do it. The consequences would be disastrous, even if as the stories say, the rip is the back door to Gilgarus’ own kingdom. Just picture about what might lie there? The items. The artefacts. The potential power.”
“We have both here,” she said. “You could do it by force, couldn’t you? And we have the key.” She was grateful utterly that she’d had the foresight to keep it with her always since he’d first smashed that statue of Melarius. “So why do you want to open it up?”
“My dear Madam Coppinger,” Wim said sorrowfully. “I believe we’re both desperate individuals here. I believe this is the only course of action left. I do not wish to rip my way through it but I will open the door for you. We had a deal. Once the deal is honoured, then I am free to engage in my own pursuits.”
“Is this dangerous?” she asked. “I mean, it’s not going to cause irreversible damage or anything, is it? Using the key?”
“Shouldn’t do,” Wim said. “The truth is I have no idea. There are stories of those who endeavoured to open it up. Their fates ultimately remain unknown. Perhaps the first thing you will see on the other side is the bones of those who have fallen. Or perhaps you will join them.” There was no emotion in his voice as he spoke, just a statement of fact. It might have worked to put a lesser person off. Claudia only felt the desire to find out for herself.
She held out the key, the shiny stone and Wim raised a hand, calmly gesticulating with his fingers and she felt the kiss of it on her palm faded away. Slowly she watched it rise into the air, fighting against gravity and the wind but ultimately powerless against Wim’s mental touch.
“There’s an indent on the wheel of justice,” Wim said softly, his face screwed up with concentration. “Missing a jewel. They always think it’s an aesthetic design flaw. An oversight. They never assume it’s actually meant to be like that because of…” One final flurry of his arm and even over the distance, she heard the slight click of the gem slotting into place.
“Perfect.”
For several long moments nothing happened. She folded her arms, tapped her foot on the grass. If this was the big finale, she wasn’t impressed. Not until the grass beneath her boot started to shimmer, faint at first to be confused for moonlight until its brightness eclipsed the lunar illumination. Wim jumped back several feet, well out of the way of her and for a moment she felt betrayed, until she realised he was watching her with an expression of utmost serenity.
And it was like she could hear his voice in her head.
This is your journey, Madam. It will make you or break you. It will be hard but everything worth doing is. You walk it alone and the world will still be here when you get back. Do not fear, just let the light take you.
Those words continued to echo through her head as she pushed away all thoughts of hurt betrayal and tried to do what they’d suggested, just relax and let them take her. How she was supposed to do that, she didn’t know but it was warm in the light. It tickled her exposed skin, it made her felt safe, even as she found herself sinking deep into the glow…
Chapter Seventy. Ruud Baxter.
“The return of old friends is an occasion that should always be savoured. When they have been kept from you for a long time, you never know when next you’ll see them again.”
Matthaus Tammer, Serranian author.
The eighth day of Summerfall.
To say that security had been massively stepped up in the last few days was perhaps an understatement, Wade considered as he and his travelling companion stepped off the boat and felt the dry land of Carcaradis Island underneath his feet. It felt good to be back. Even though his eyes still hurt a little behind the dark glasses shielding them from the afternoon sun, he didn’t realise quite how much of the atmosphere he’d missed of this place. If anything, the sudden increase of potential danger had sparked it all into life, even with the added security.
Far from being cowed, people had set out to show that they were going to enjoy the last few days of the tournament before the harsh reality kicked in. There’d been a big thing a week or two earlier how Ritellia had promised to bring in a Vazaran Sun presence to help ensure that the peace was kept. Considering recent revelations, that presence had been quashed and removed from the island and replaced with a fresh influx of Unisco agents and local Vazaran cops from the mainland.
Not even Ritellia was stupid enough to fly his own flag in the face of something like this. Things weren’t looking good for him; rumours were rife that he was being forced into stepping down when the tournament concluded the following day. Being associated with Claudia Coppinger by proxy looked like it might have done for him, especially given her role in ensuring the locale for the Quin-C as well as certain allegations about his private life.
Thomas Jerome was already playing up to the media, trying to get in as the front runner for the next head of the ICCC, a move Wade personally found distasteful but in well keeping with the man’s prior behaviour. Whatever happened over the coming months, it was unlikely that the spirit calling organisation was going to be much towards the front of it. People would have more important things on his mind. It was quite incredible really, by the sounds of it Ritellia had fought tooth and nail just to ensure that the final was held. There had been calls for it to be cancelled and rearranged for a later date, or even to declare it a draw and split the prize money between the two finalists, something Wade had to concede would probably have been for the best.
But no. It wasn’t to be and it had gone ahead. Just as planned.
It was finally here, Wade had noted. Just six short weeks after it had started, the final was fast approaching and in a way, he was relieved. He’d come here with the intent of dominating, he felt himself grow anxious with the thoughts of what could have been…
But what wasn’t to be, wasn’t to be. He couldn’t complain. He’d done what he felt was the right thing at the time. It was about the only thing he could do; he’d been way too ill to compete. Always there’d be regrets but he couldn’t let them paralyse him. There was too much at stake for indecision.
“Remember, a regret is an opportunity missed, but an opportunity missed leads to an opportunity taken down the line.”
It was largely because of the final being held the following day that the figure with him had arrived. One of Wade’s oldest friends, they’d come through Unisco training together, been partnered up on their first assignments. He hadn’t seen much of him over the last five years but the last fortnight in his presence had been eye-opening figuratively. Of course, he did have a lot of those insightful statements to add to every situation. The older he’d gotten, the more he believed his wisdom had grown. Wade wasn’t sure about that, but he was bloody glad to have him at his back.
After all, Ruud Baxter had a certain reputation. Not just as the man who was about to hand back the trophy, a sign that his reign as champion of the Quin-C had come to the end. A lot of people didn’t believe he was still alive; five years of solitude would do that to a man’s public image. Of course, Wade knew the truth. The two of them hid few secrets from each other, at least to his knowledge.
“We all have regrets,” he said softly. Getting through customs was a slow process this time, the guards insisted on searching everyone individually. Vazaran police from the mainland clad in sweat stained uniforms, Wade winced
at the sight. If they didn’t like you, you weren’t getting through. And even all things considered, they were probably still less reliable than the Suns. At least the Suns were notorious for being incorruptible beyond their high doctrine. They wouldn’t take bribes to avoid doing their job. Idly he toyed with flashing his badge and moving past the searches, but Wade…
“Don’t worry,” Ruud said. “I’ll be through faster than you, I’d imagine.” He was a slender man in his late thirties with a fading tan, almost dapper in his built and of averaging height, unremarkable but for the thick black hair that hung down to his lower back and grew wild on his chin. He still carried the cane, although as far as Wade was aware, he’d never actually needed it. He was just a notorious eccentric where it was concerned. About the most he did use it for was occasionally whacking the shins of those in his way.
That aside, he had a sense of an easy-going nature about him, one that suggested he didn’t take life too seriously. Clad in a sapphire blue suit and jaunty hat with a cream coloured rim-band, he cut a dashing figure on the docks, easily standing out amidst the tourists. Very few recognised him, largely Wade guessed down to the fact that he’d been clean shaven and short haired when he’d won the tournament.
“Want to bet?”
He’d overheard some of Ruud’s exchange and mentally kicked himself. That, of course. There was always the lesson about gambling and avoiding it, never knowing how the cards would be stacked or might fall for you. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Ruud display his pass card with its wildly incomparable photo and the security official studied it for several long moments. Ruud smiled at him. Two people behind him in the queue, one of them a redheaded girl studying her summoner, her foot tapping against the ground. She looked… If not unnerved, then definitely agitated. Wade smiled as he saw her. They must think his eyes worse than they were.
“Need to search your bags,” the official grunted. “Official procedure.”
That smile only grew. “Of course, I understand. But it isn’t needed here, you see.” Those eyes locked on the officials, there was more than a bit of a twinkle in them. Ruud could be quite charming when he needed to be. He remembered back in the day, women had thrown themselves at him.
“I see. It’s not needed here.”
“Thanks. You’ve been most helpful.” Eyes still locked, grin still plastered across his tanned face, Ruud clapped him on the shoulder. “Have a nice day sir.”
“Always here to help. Have a nice day, sir.”
Wade had beaten him through. But not by much and he still had to contend with Ruud’s smirk as he slipped the credit over. He was careful not to look him in the eye, he knew that much. Looking him in the eyes was always an interesting experience. Ruud’s eyes were mismatched, one a dull brown the same shade as mud, one a brilliant blue like staring into the sky. No matter which one, you always got the impression he could see through anything you might say, pick out the lies and then play you at your own game.
“You know, you should really inform people that these guys are very susceptible to that trick,” Wade said thoughtfully. “It’s quite worrying.”
Ruud shrugged. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“What about the two young men who’ve been watching you ever since we got on the boat?” Wade asked, keeping his voice neutral. “Have they got anything to hide? What about the women? And what about you, dear cousin!” He raised his voice for that, the redhead behind them reacting with a start. “You must be slipping if you think I wouldn’t notice.”
“Okay so I didn’t come alone,” Ruud grinned. “An entourage is always nice.” He held out his hands in front of him, a gesture of mock surrender. “Besides, you never know what’s going to happen, do you?”
Something about his voice made Wade straighten up and take note. Ruud might be an annoying bastard at times, he might have a layer of extreme self confidence that bordered not just on the arrogant but the obscene but… But he had reason to be. He could back it up. Often he knew what he was talking about and you disregarded it at your own peril.
“I wondered how long it’d take for you to notice me,” Clara said, moving in. Wade grinned at his younger cousin. “Thought you’d forgotten.”
“And then the hells froze over,” Wade replied dryly, stepping over to embrace her happily. “Not about to happen. Not going to forget my favourite cousin. I’ll play my part and Baxter’ll play his games. We all know how much he enjoys those.”
“Only because you failed utterly to win this one completely, my friend,” Ruud said. “I knew you’d noticed I wasn’t alone on this trip. But I doubted you’d notice everyone I had with me.” His grin was just about unbearable. “Safety in numbers, double that for the unknown.”
“Do you know something?”
“I know a lot of things. You could too if you just believed…” Ruud trailed off his voice, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at Wade. “You need not fear what you do not understand. That path leads to hatred and anger. It’s not a dictate to live by, it’s just good advice for living a good life.”
“I’ve told you before…”
“Your cousin embraced it, the power is strong in you and yet you choose to let it atrophy like a useless limb. Very few people in your position would turn it down. We’ve told each other a lot of things before.”
Wade glanced back and forth around them, narrowed his eyes and folded his arms defensively. Clara had fallen in alongside him and Ruud, he shot her a disparaging look and kept it on her until she fell back several steps. She didn’t need to hear what he and Ruud were talking about.
“And perhaps that’s a better thing for the world that I do. I’m not afraid of what I might do…”
“False.” He said it quietly but it still had all the emphasis of a whip crack.
“I’m not!” Wade insisted Once more he glanced about them, still too many people on the docks, still too much of a chance that their private conversation would not remain so for very much longer. “There’s a great deal of difference between fear and respect. I respect the potential power enough to know that maybe it shouldn’t be used.”
“You’re not going to change his mind, Master,” Clara called forth. A few people looked at her, she brushed them off as if they weren’t there. Both Ruud and Wade looked back at her, stern looks that urged her to quieten down. She did but didn’t look happy. The two men that Wade had spotted earlier fell in with her, soon they were out of eyesight.
“Your cousin is headstrong,” Ruud said wearily. “A chore indeed.”
“Always has been. You didn’t grow up with her.” Wade smirked to himself, before adding. “You didn’t know her when she was a teenager. Or when she discovered guys. That! That was an interesting time. My uncle never quite recovered from it.”
“There’s not many challenges I’d turn down,” Ruud said. “But that part of parenthood is something I’m really not ready to face.”
“Don’t you need another person for that?!” Wade’s smirk said it all. Ruud gave him a sardonic look in reply.
“Your wit remains as dry as ever.”
“Some things don’t change, I think you’ll find,” Wade said. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you know something?”
Ruud said nothing for a few long moments, instead chose to look out over at the ocean with deliberate thoughtfulness. He cleared his throat, rubbed the edge of his sleeve against his mouth.
“Hard to say,” he said. “The future is always in motion, snake-like. Always weaving one way and another, every choice brings about something new, it’s almost impossible to predict accurately. Beyond me to get it right every time. The seers of the old Vedo order went mad very quickly trying to get it right. It burns out the mind. I’ll take a murky future and relative sensibility over knowing what’s coming and drooling at the mouth, thank you very much.”
“The old Vedo order,” Wade said. “I remember all the stories you told me about them once upon a time. I didn’t believe half of them.”
&
nbsp; “Well therein lay your mistake,” Ruud said. They were rapidly approaching the second set of customs officials, so far twice as many as there’d been when Wade had come here the first time. “Your fault is not that you don’t believe. It’s that you don’t believe enough. Most of them weren’t true to start with, being entirely fair. Time has greatly exaggerated the deeds of those long dead. The truth always was that the Vedo of the past were victims of their own insularity.”
“And this is a group you’re trying to rope me into joining,” Wade said sarcastically. “And then you wonder at the same time why I’m not keen.”
“The Vedo of the past are all dead to the best of my knowledge,” Ruud said. “Those of the future won’t repeat those mistakes. I’ll see to that.”
“And what of fresh mistakes? In avoiding those of the past, is there not a risk that you might inadvertently create worse ones?”
Ruud said nothing. Wade knew he’d scored a point but perhaps it wasn’t the best time to bring it up.
“The old order had many advantages, many decades to grow and become the behemoth it did,” he eventually said. “The new one won’t be built in a day. Five years since the old one fell. The wounds are still fresh; the healing process is a slow one. Every venture has its risks and you cannot in any sense of reason, avoid them. Risk is what makes it worth it in the end.”
The first thing he’d wanted to do upon leaving customs and arriving on the island proper was go to the small cemetery out in the very centre, just a few minutes’ walk from the stadium where the final would take place tomorrow, Wade noticing that he was shaken as he entered. If he’d been unflappable walking through customs, then he was struggling now as he strode straight over to the one solitary grave.