Fireblood (Whispers from Mirrowen)

by Jeff Wheeler

  Annon nodded. “So you are suggesting that Kiranrao was trying to distract us with his story about my uncle?”

  Paedrin laughed. “Do not even try to apply Uddhava yet. I have not finished explaining it. Observation is the key element of it. It is more than mere looking. It is more than noticing. When we observe the world around us, we begin to notice that life is a current and we are caught up in the middle of it, but our actions change the course for others. Things act and react differently, depending on the forces that are used. The second element of Uddhava is trying to intuitively understand why a person has done what they have done. What motivated them? It is not just the action itself, but the motive of that action.”

  Erasmus cackled. “And people are so transparent, are they? They love to deceive everyone, including themselves. You cannot judge my motives any more than you can determine the real reasons for your own.”

  Paedrin grinned and whipped the stick around, pointing it at Erasmus’s nose. “If you all keep interrupting me, we will never make it to the end.”

  “Keep going,” Annon said. “I am interested.”

  “This is starting to sound like a sermon,” Hettie murmured.

  “I will be quick, I promise. No moralizing. Once the intent is divined, the next two things come in rapid order. According to the Uddhava, you make a decision to test your conclusion for accuracy. Then you act on that decision. Your action then prompts the other person to do something. And it all begins again. You observe what they have done, see if it matches your intuition, make another decision about what to do, and then act on it.”

  He paused in front of the fire. The light reflected off his dark skin. “Every day, each one of us is dancing awkwardly to a rhythm of the Uddhava. Those who master it make the world dance to their tune.” He scratched his scalp. “Let me be specific. You might think I was a fool to rush into Drosta’s pit without studying it first for danger.” He paused. “This is where you insult me, Hettie. Please…don’t disappoint me.”

  His comment startled her and she said nothing.

  “See! I just used it against you. I know your propensity for cutting remarks, and rather than letting you muster one, I forestalled you with my own. This is an example of the Uddhava. My actions were not without thought. I went into the cave first because, as you have already noticed, I can fly.”

  “It is more like floating,” Erasmus muttered gravely.

  “A choice of words,” Paedrin said impatiently, batting away the comment with his staff. “I did not require a rope to leave there. I triggered the trap, which was my intent, to allow us all to learn what was down there and thus be better prepared for it. What you foolishly did,” he added, whipping the stick around at Hettie, “was come down on a fraying rope after me. I did not anticipate you putting your life in jeopardy like that, but it helped draw the creature’s attention two ways. It was clever to realize that shrouding the lights rendered it harmless. I did not figure that out. It required the collective action and reactions of all of us together to solve the riddle. Which, in my humble opinion, is the reason why Tyrus sent us there at the start. He has been using the principles of Uddhava against us from the beginning.”

  He was silent a moment and then slapped the staff against his palm. “Before we return to Kenatos, we must ponder his motives, make our decision, and then act. Kiranrao did the same thing. He fed us certain scraps of knowledge, though true or false they may be, in order to discern our reaction to them and thus learn more about our intentions.”

  He stopped speaking, triumphantly, and raised his eyebrow.

  Hettie looked confused. “I’m not sure I even understood you, Bhikhu.”

  “Not surprising. You have always been a little slow.”

  “Hold the insults for now,” she answered. “I want to be clear first. So the Uddhava is a strategy for manipulating others?”

  Paedrin shook his head. “In an indirect way, maybe, but we all have our choices. It is the rhythm of life and governs our relationships with each other, whether verbal or physical. It applies to fighting. Let me demonstrate.” He stepped around the fire and brought the staff in an exaggerated pose and slowly brought it down, as if to crack Annon’s skull. The blow was ponderously slow, and Annon leaned to the side so that it passed harmlessly by.

  “I did it slowly,” Paedrin explained, “that you might understand. Let’s try it again.”

  He stepped back and brought the staff down again, mimicking his earlier pose and attack. As Annon began to move aside, Paedrin suddenly whirled around, bringing the staff around horizontally, tapping Annon’s cheek instead of crushing it.

  “There. You suspected I was going to bash you on the head, so you reacted to it the way anyone might. But that was not my intent, to attack you the same way twice. My second move caught you off guard and would have incapacitated you. I did not know what you were going to do. I merely suspected. Now, imagine this playing out at full speed where you only have the blink of an eye to understand what I am doing, make a decision, and then act upon it. If you are right, you stop the attack. If you are wrong, you are unconscious.”

  Paedrin walked over to Erasmus. “The same principle applies to you.” Erasmus flinched, holding up his hands wardingly.

  “No, you fool, I’m not going to bash you in the head. Your wealth and success has come from understanding the motives of others, determining how they will react, and then betting on it accordingly. Rather than taking moments to see if you are right, your decisions may take months. A fire burning in the road. Caravans delayed in passing through. People losing money because cargo has spoiled. Those things may take time to play out, but they will play out. Others observe the loss of spoiled fruit. They can sell the next shipment for double. The faster they react, the more profits they make. It is the nature of Havenrook to use the Uddhava. And it is no coincidence that a Vaettir named Kiranrao is behind it.”

  Annon thought about what he had been told. What a perplexing way to look at the world. However, it did explain how attentive Paedrin was to their surroundings. It was as if he were constantly assessing dangers and forming plans. Like on the road to Havenrook, he had noticed the Preachán crouching amidst the wagons and suggested attacking them before being attacked. Having a Bhikhu as a companion was an advantage to anyone.

  Annon prodded the fire with a stick. “Is that why the Bhikhu patrol the streets of Kenatos?”

  Paedrin gave him a steady look and nodded. “Our presence alone is often enough to prevent crime. Not to mention that we have a certain reputation for inflicting pain on others. Pain is a teacher, as I have told you before. Most people fear it. We do not. We would never stop a child from touching a burning piece of wood. We would warn, but never prevent. Wisdom comes through listening to those with more experience. Only fools blunder through unnecessary pain.”

  “How is your shoulder feeling?” Hettie asked wryly.

  He gave her a smirk. “It hurts. How is your skull? Thank the stars it was thick enough.”

  Erasmus whistled softly. “I am beginning to appreciate Tyrus’s craftiness. I do not think he intended me to go back to Havenrook after guiding you to Drosta’s lair. Since Kiranrao knew what was hidden there, he will slit my belly open to learn where you are taking it. It would probably be in my best interest to stay with you a while longer.”

  Paedrin crouched near the fire. Annon was amazed at his flexibility, how he could crouch so low while his heels were flat on the ground. His arm was tied to his body, but he still looked dangerous. He twirled the half-staff in his hand, slowly, thinking.

  “Let us consider this together,” he said. “I only know your uncle by reputation as one of the wealthiest men in Kenatos. A Paracelsus. That means he is a maker. His kind made the blade. May I see it?”

  Annon shook his head. “No, it is a dangerous thing. It has great power over the mind.”

  Paedrin gave him a long look. “I am not a fool, Annon. Let me examine it. I was cut by a blade recently, if you remember.
I appreciate the danger.”

  Annon withdrew it from his robe and felt the compulsion growing again. The blade did not want to be shown around. He felt a dark menace from it. Annon’s fingers twitched. The surge of emotions was stifling, and he felt sweat pop out on his forehead. Hettie shrank from him, her eyes widening with fear. Erasmus squinted, his face suddenly ashen.

  “Put it away,” Paedrin whispered. His eyes were serious. “I could not control my thoughts looking at it, let alone risk handling it. Truly, it is an evil weapon. Put it away.”

  Annon obliged, hiding it in his belt, beneath his cloak. The blade went still again.

  Paedrin cocked his head, scratching his forehead. “Why would your uncle send you for it? The pretext was buying your freedom.” He nodded to Hettie. Her eyes were haunted. “What was his real motive?”

  “Impossible to deduce,” Erasmus said. “He reveals nothing of his plans. He is very guarded.”

  Paedrin frowned and shook his head. “The specific reason, perhaps. But we should not relax our thoughts because the riddle is difficult. First thought that comes to me. Did he expect we would be successful? Was it to test our craftiness or persistence? To see if we would quit?”

  Annon thought a moment. “He gave us pieces of the riddle, but not the whole. He told us about Erasmus, who could lead us there. He gave me the words that would open the stone. So yes, I think he did want us to succeed.”

  “I hate being manipulated,” Hettie said with an icy voice. “Why not tell us it was a blade and not a cask of ducats?”

  “Another thought,” Annon said, touching his lip. “Let us suppose that Kiranrao was not lying. That he truly is looking for Tyrus now. Maybe there was an explosion in the tower, that Tyrus is a hunted man. Perhaps he knew the danger was coming and wanted to send us far away?”

  Paedrin nodded vigorously. “I like your thinking. It would be pretty easy to confirm whether or not Kiranrao was lying. We could even discover that without crossing the lake into the city. If the boatmen confirm it, then we know that there was an explosion. He obviously did not want us to know about the danger.”

  “That troubles me,” Hettie said softly. “While I hate being manipulated, I would feel even worse if he did this to spare us. I do not want to owe him anything.”

  Annon put his arm around her. “He did not require anything from us. We seemed more like a nuisance to him anyway.”

  Hettie shook her head. “I’m worried about him.”

  Erasmus snorted. “Don’t be a fool, girl. He is quite capable of defending himself. Even the Arch-Rike fears him.”

  At those words, Annon’s eyes opened wide. “I’m a fool.”

  Paedrin looked curious. “What do you mean?”

  He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “Maybe I am mistaken, but your words about the Uddhava make sense to me. How we are observed, and it triggers actions in others. When I came to Kenatos, I had to cross the gates. I told the Rike there that I was the nephew of Tyrus of Kenatos. I did not think of it until now, but the man started, surprised. He was shocked. Obviously his ring allowed him to know that I was not lying. He directed me to the Paracelsus Towers. No doubt I was followed.” He turned to Hettie. “Did you mention who you were visiting?”

  Hettie shook her head, her brow crinkling with worry. “Of course not. What business is it of theirs?”

  “The explosion happened after we left. It may have happened the very next day. My mentor, Reeder, warned me about trusting Tyrus. That he was involved in some matter dealing with the Scourgelands. My visit may have started the cycle of the Uddhava.”

  Paedrin looked at him seriously. “No, it started before you arrived. It started when Hettie arrived in Kenatos, seeking her freedom. It may have started even earlier than that.”

  “What do you mean?” Hettie asked, her voice defensive. “You think that I caused this?”

  “No,” Paedrin answered, batting his hand at her. “When you were both infants.”

  “Oh,” Hettie said. There was something in her voice, in her reaction. It made Paedrin pause. Was she hiding something? There was a growing pit of unease in Annon’s stomach, and it had nothing to do with the blade hidden in his cloak. There were forces at work that baffled him. But it was as Paedrin had taught them. An unseen current was pulling them all along, bouncing and bumping them into each other. He needed to know where the current was taking them before he decided whether or not he wanted to swim with it or against it.

  “We need to find Tyrus,” Annon said resolutely.

  Hettie touched his hand. Hers was warm. He glanced at her face and saw his concern mirrored in her eyes. Her look of defensiveness was gone now. It was probably his exhaustion and the effects of the weapon on his mind. Here they were together. A brother and sister, separated since birth. Was that even an accident?

  “Then I suppose we will need a Finder,” she said.

  Somewhere in the deep darkness of the Alkire, a creature roared. It was then that Annon noticed the subtle mist snaking through the boulders.

  “The wilderness is full of monsters, it is said. What men fear most is their unrealized expectations. A dark alley. A thief with a knife. A thousand regrets of what will never be. This is fear.”

  – Possidius Adeodat, Archivist of Kenatos

  A chill descended on the little camp. Wispy tendrils of fog seeped slowly, bringing fear with the cold. Paedrin turned and stared at the darkness of the woods, gripping his shattered staff; he looked at the others. Annon felt his fingers tingle with heat, and he prepared to whisper the words that would summon the flames. Would such a being be immune to it? He hoped not.

  Erasmus poked the ground with a stick, muttering to himself. “How many men did Kiranrao have? How many were slain? We saw the bodies. The chance for each of us surviving until daylight is bleak. Perhaps only two of us will. Those are bitter odds.”

  “Say nothing,” Paedrin said, striding to the fringe of the firelight. “I hear something moving in the woods.”

  Hettie came to her feet at once, bringing out her hunter’s bow and nocking an arrow. Her arms trembled.

  “Be still!” Paedrin hissed. He stared into the woods, listening.

  Another roar sounded, closer this time. The size of the creature, the noise it made terrified Annon. What were they facing? What was it that hunted them? He thought about his talisman, stuffed in a pouch at his waist. It was useless to him unless he wore it around his neck. Had the spirits tried to warn him earlier? Or were they gibbering in fear as well?

  There was a crunch and crash deep in the blackness, followed by a shower of branches.

  The fire snapped and hissed as the mist curled around the stones hedging it in. A thick, silent fog came from the trees above, blotting out the stars.

  “Do we run?” Annon whispered, his throat dry.

  Paedrin held up his hand, his head cocked. “It’s coming from below, not above. I hear it in the woods.”

  “I hear nothing,” Hettie said, swinging the bow around and aiming it down.

  Paedrin took a deep breath and exhaled it quickly. He turned to the others. “When it comes, I will slow it. You run as far and as fast as you can. Try to find shelter, a cave or something narrow where it may not fit.”

  “You are coming with us,” Hettie insisted.

  Paedrin shook his head. “Remember the Uddhava. Trust me, I will not be easy prey. I will make it hunt and chase me all night if necessary. I am faster than all of you. It improves the odds of our survival if I face it alone.”

  “No,” Hettie said.

  “Your injuries,” Annon said, his stomach lurching. He respected the Bhikhu now. The thought of losing him was painful. “This is not fair to ask of you.”

  There was a half-smirk in response. “Of course it isn’t fair. But I promised I would be your protector. My duty is not yet fulfilled, and I will face it. Get ready, it comes.”

  Even Annon could hear the approach from the south. Twigs and branches snapped and cracked. The
crunch of vegetation was obvious now. Annon tried to swallow his fear, but he could not. In a moment, they would see it.

  “Be ready,” Paedrin said. “I will face it.”

  “There!” Hettie said, bringing up her bow and stretching it back.

  “Hold!” Annon said, bringing his arm down over hers. The figure approaching was large, but not monstrous. The girth was enormous, or Annon would have thought it was Tyrus. A bushy, mottled, gray-and-black beard emerged from the cowl of a cloak.

  Paedrin paused, weapon ready, scrutinizing the stranger.

  The voice was deep, as deep as a barrel. “You do not have much time to determine whether to trust me. But I can lead you to safety this night if you choose to believe me. Either way, the Fear Liath comes. Make your decision.”

  Dark eyes appeared in the concealment of the cowl, which the stranger lowered, revealing a huge mane of gray-black hair. The mustache just below his nose was darker than the rest, as were his prominent eyebrows. But his swarthy skin and bulk showed him to be a Cruithne. And the talisman around his neck revealed he was also a Druidecht.

  A gush of relief went through Annon’s heart on seeing the token. “I trust him.”

  Hettie no longer resisted and released the tension in the bowstring.

  “In a few more moments, your time to decide will be shattered by raking claws and the most horrible hide-stench you can imagine. You are in its lair still. I, for one, would prefer safety to debate. The choice is yours.” He turned abruptly and started back down the mountainside at a solid pace, crushing the branches and debris as he walked.

  Paedrin glanced at Annon in surprise.

  “He is Druidecht,” Annon said, grabbing Hettie by the arm.