by kubasik
Fortunately, I already knew well the layout of the ship, for it was of the same design as the Stone Rainbow. Because magicians are usually granted upper status in most societies, I decided he would probably have one of the better cabins off on the port side.
Here there is a moment I remember with shame.
As I ran through the narrow corridors, it occurred to me that the rowers on the ship would be slaves, just as I had been a slave. And each one would desire freedom as much as I had desired freedom from the yoke of the Therans. I knew — or part of me did — that I should first go down to free the slaves and then resume my personal quest.
But another part of me knew that if I did not get the robe now, it might be months before I could make another one, even if I finally got Vrograth's cooperation.
I knew many, many things, all of them justifications for my selfishness. This knowledge carried me past the stairs leading down to the slaves, and toward the area where I believed the magician waited.
I turned a corner. A Theran elf and I ran into each other, my face slamming into her chest. The dagger was in my hand, while she must reach for her sword, panic on her face.
Too late. Even as she drew the sword, I drove my blade into her stomach, and twisted it as my father had taught me.
A long moan poured from the elf's mouth, and her long face turned suddenly lifeless.
Blood from the wound flowed over my hand. Her corpse leaned into me. I lowered it gently to the floor. The fact of what I'd done was impossible to ignore, I was too close to the corpse. I did not know why we so often do horrible things to one another, but I'd learned that once done, I simply had to go on.
I thought that the elf might have been accompanying the magician to get him to his quarters, which meant he might be nearby. I began searching the cabins, one after another...
In the fifth room I found him.
8
He lay on the bed, his back to me, still wearing the robe. Black, with silver tears and shiny black eyes just barely visible. He moaned softly as I opened the door, turning as I entered.
He was a strong man with a handsome face. Mid-forties.
"Vestrial!" The magician called, and I thought I saw the shadow of something enter the cabin, the presence of Vestrial, Passion of manipulation and deceit.
Something seized my mind. A Horror, I thought at first. But the man said, "Carry me safely and alive to the ground under your own power."
As if I had suddenly awakened from a dream, a new truth confronted me. It seemed perfectly normal that I wanted to carry him to the ground. I had no idea how I might do it, but it was all very clear. A part of me struggled with the orders, knew that the desire to do the man's Will was the dream. But the powers granted to the man by Vestrial won.
"I don't know how to do it," I said.
He had begun to sit up, wincing in paint from the burn wounds along his right arm, and stopped abruptly. Through gritted teeth he said, "Cast metal wings and we'll fly down."
"I don't know that spell."
He looked at me with astonishment. The shouts of the sailors drifted between us during the pause in our exchange. The clashing of swords and cries of battle came closer, and I imagined the Therans fighting a running retreat, taking shelter in the lower decks of the ship.
"You're an elementalist! I saw your aura! You must know metal wings. What would you be doing in an airship without metal wings?"
"I didn't mean to be here. It's kind of an accident." In the back of my thoughts I wanted to rush him and kill him. The sensations burned like dying coals in my muscles. But my desire to carry him to the ground took precedence over all other objectives. First I had to figure out how to do it, and then fulfill it.
"Over there," he said, nodding with his head to a stone cabinet set into the wall. He cradled his burned arm.
I walked over to the cabinet and found several leather bags and metal boxes — all in a variety of shapes and sizes.
"The silver box," he said, "I think. With the ruby on the top."
I picked up the box. It felt cold in my hand, but the metal was smooth and pleasing to touch.
"There's a bit of a grimoire in there. I think that's the one with metal wings. When you read it, you can cast it."
"I don't have a robe."
"No, you don't. That's your risk. And don't think I don't know why you came rushing in here looking for me. Now help me up. It sounds as if the ship will fall to the trolls soon."
Indeed it did. The fighting had died down, but I heard the cheers of trolls from the upper deck. I went over to magician, and supported him by slipping his arm over my shoulder.
Then we walked out the door. Again, I wanted to shout and call for help, but I could take no action but those that would help me carry him to the ground.
We made our way down the corridor, and when we reached the cargo hold we entered it.
He had me lead him to a large door, and said, "Here." I leaned him against the wall. Then he said, "Go bolt the door we just came through."
That had nothing to do with getting him to the ground, so I refused. I didn't want to prevent the crystal raiders from finding us.
"Do it or I'll kill you with a spell. It's a manner of death you've never even imagined, I promise. Everyone I've used it on has been quite surprised."
It wasn't his melodramatic threat that got me to do as he commanded. He was a nethermancer, and I knew they carry the vilest of the art's spells in their heads. But, if I died, I couldn't get him to the ground. I bolted the door and returned to him.
"Now, open this door." He took in ragged breaths, and his flesh went pale as he stood against the wall. If he died, I wondered, would I be forced to carry the corpse to the ground, or would I be freed of the power?
I pulled a bolt back on the broad door, and it fell forward, forming a loading ramp. But the ramp now opened out into thin air. Storm clouds gathered outside. Above I saw a drakkar floating alongside the Theran ship's upper deck.
"Open the box and learn the spell."
I opened the box and found three smooth, flat stones. Upon each was a spell, written in tiny, neat letters. Metal wings. Wall of fire. Whirlwind. I already had wall of fire, but not the other two.
"Hurry."
I hurried. I pulled out the stone with metal wings on it and placed the box on the floor.
Then, after kneeling on the floor, I began studying the stone. The grimoire's owner had bound the magical writing to the rock and it took me a moment to see past the stone.
I heard the deep voices of trolls outside, and then their pounding on the door of the cargo hold. “Hurry," he said again, his voice now no more than a whisper.
The words came clear to me with a minute or so of work. I would not "know" the spell, because I had not the time to transfer it to my own grimoire, but I could read it and cast it right then. I stood and cast the spell.
A strange weight began to build upon my back. It surprised me, even though I knew the effect of the spell. It grew heavier and heavier, until I could feel my bones changing shape and growing into something completely unfamiliar. My shoulder blades hunched together, and I had to lean forward to keep myself supported. Within moments I could turn my head to either side and see the gray metal wings that grew from my back. The feathers looked carefully sculpted by the hands of a craftsman, each with small lines and ridges.
The magician smiled, then hobbled over behind me. He wrapped his arms under mine, and then clasped his hands behind my neck. It was uncomfortable, but not intolerable.
"Now,” he hissed. "Now!"
I hobbled forward so that we walked out along the loading plank. I heard shouts from above, and looked up to see several trolls noticing the magician and myself. They stared at us over the edge of their drakkar, and as I looked up into their faces I hesitated.
The magician pushed me forward, and the two of us fell over the edge of the plank and tumbled down through the air. The world spun wildly around me, a blur of jungle green and storm g
ray.
"Flap!" the magician screamed, his voice filled with fear. At the back of my neck his hands loosened for a moment, then clasped themselves back together. He groaned in agony — staying on my back under the pain of his burn wounds was not easy.
The command to bring him safely to the ground echoed m my ears, and my own desire to live influenced me as well, and I spread my wings. Though I'd never used the spell before, and had no experience flying this way, I found I could fly as well as I could walk.
From our plummet, we suddenly swept up, like eagles out flying for joy.
"Down," hissed the magician.
Down we went. Whatever feeling had overwhelmed me while flying on board an airship could not compare with this sensation. I rested on nothing. The only detriment to feeling completely free of all responsibilities was the grumbling magician on my back. I longed to have no one needing me. To be free of gravity and everyone seemed a wonderful goal.
We raced to the ground, approaching in a wide spiral. I glanced up and saw the Theran ships and the drakkars. The battle seemed to have ended with the trolls victorious.
But where was I heading now?
9
We landed at the edge of a Jungle.
Roughly.
The wings and the magic could only help me fly, so landing was the business of my legs and my own dexterity. I tried to hit the ground running, but I mistimed the approach and tripped. The magician and I sprawled across the ground, he with a loud cry.
I turned to face him, freed now from the command, ready to claw his flesh from his body with my nails. But he was already composed, and had begun forming a pattern in the air with his hands. I reached down to grab some dirt to cast earth darts.
Too late. His spell shimmered around his hands, and then an enormous pain filled my mind. I blacked out.
Rain dripped down on my face, and it took me a few moments to remember what had happened.
When I did, I scrambled up. The wings had vanished from my back, and I could move quite easily. All around me was deep jungle, dark and textured with endless grays.
I turned, looking for the magician. He stood there, resting against a tree, smiling. He had dragged me into the jungle, hiding me from those who might search for me.
I charged him.
He called upon Vestrial again.
This time it didn't work.
The smile sagged from his face. He held up his hands to fend off my blows as I began to pummel his face. Fury so filled my senses that all I perceived was the pounding of my hands against his face, and the blur of the hands as they hammered him again and again.
Then they were around his neck, choking him.
Just barely, under all this, I heard him speak to me. His voice was strained; for I did everything I could to crush his throat between my hands. But his tone remained calm and, most important, convincing.
"The last thing you want to do is hurt me," he said. "What you want to do is relax. You do not want to hurt me. Do you know what I can do for you? Think about that. What can I offer you?"
I did not think about it. I did everything in my power to put his words out of my mind, for I know that the questors of Vestrial are the most manipulative of people, that they could lie about the weather and most people would believe them.
Yet despite my attempts to block his words from my ears, they wormed into my thoughts.
Soon my grip had loosened. Not enough to release him, but enough so he could relax a bit.
In that instant he called on Vestrial once more.
I heard him speak, and heard his voice in my head.
"Fly me alive and well to Vivane."
I did.
10
It took us several days of flying because I needed rest between flights. Periodically the magician and I would struggle as I tried to run away or kill him in between his use of Vestrial powers, but he invariably won. His force of will combined with Vestrial's aid and my exhaustion made him an invincible foe.
So I found myself enslaved again. First at the hands of the Therans, then trapped by the crystal raiders, and finally by a lone nethermancer. Add to the list the years enthralled by the madness J'role and I shared, and it seemed I had never lived a day of freedom in my life.
The magician's contempt for me grew and grew as we traveled on, until I became no more than a pack animal to him. And, obviously, a pack animal he had no intention of keeping healthy. By the time the blue spires of Vivane appeared on the horizon, his hands were digging deep into the back of my neck as he clung to me. He seemed to have forgotten that people are only meant to bend certain ways, and that by forcing my head forward he, twisted me completely out of shape. My words of protest fell on deaf ears.
"Just fly straight," he would say. "I'll tell you when to turn."
Thus, it was only by chance that I espied the city ahead of us at all. An upwind had caught my metal wings and lifted us straight up. Vertical for a moment, I saw the city.
The red, evening sun caught the shiny blue towers and turned them a glittering black.
From the air the sight was spectacular, and I gasped with pleasure. "Enough!" he said, and forced my head down again. "Just get me there!"
I flew on. I knew that to the south of the city stood Sky Point. Beyond that, across thick jungles, stood the village where I had lived with the two of you. I wondered once more where you were, and if I would ever see you again. It seemed certain that I would be executed once we arrived in Vivane. The task of finding you two would fall to your father, and I did not think he was up to it. I feared for you both. I feared for your father, for his secret, buried in his soul like a thorn, kept him from finding the life I think he so desperately sought in his stories. And I feared for myself, for I knew that if I died, I would have failed you. An ugly epitaph.
As we got closer, I saw a flying castle docked at the tallest spire of the city — the Overgovernor's castle!
The spire was part of a huge palace, which I knew to be the home of Yorte Pa, the city's magistrate. It seemed that the Therans had taken over the palace and made it their own.
Most likely they had taken over the entire city. If the castle was docked at the palace, the Overgovernor might have taken up residence there. If he had, you boys would be there as well.
I flapped my wings a few times, increasing speed as we reached the city walls. Guards on the walls, a mix of Theran and native forces, raised crossbows at us. But they spotted the magician, and the captain of the guard ordered their weapons lowered.
"There," the magician said. “On the castle wall."
But I had only to get him safely to the city. I would choose where we landed.
I turned and headed toward a wide balcony set into the palace. A large fountain stood in the center of it, and water poured down from the mouth of a dragon that coiled around a iron mountain.
"What are you doing!" he shouted.
I ignored him.
A set of glass doors led into the palace, and as I rushed toward them I could see myself fully in the reflection of the window. Small and round, with the long gray wings that grew out of my back. My focus shifted through the glass doors and I saw guards rushing toward us from within the palace.
I began to turn, thinking that I might be able to move fast enough to avoid the crossbow bolts of the guards. But this plan vanished from my thoughts immediately, for behind the guards on the other side of the glass doors I saw the two of you.
I could not see you clearly, but I recognized your fair hair, the shape of your faces.
Dressed in short white tunics, you each held a silver tray.
I increased my speed.
"Stop!" the magician screamed. I felt a tug at my thoughts. I had to get him to the city safely.
I already had.
I smiled.
As I rushed toward the glass doors, momentum carrying me forward, I turned on my back and tucked myself into a ball. In his panic, the magician clung more tightly to me.
We smashed into t
he window, the man's back taking the brunt of the blow. He screamed in terror and agony. I rolled up quickly, blood poured from his back and he writhed on the floor. The guards pulled back in surprise, and the two of you turned toward the violent sounds, dropping your trays as you saw the silhouette of a winged monster rushing toward you.
I'd been living with the trolls for some time. Blood and dirt caked my face. Ferocity possessed my body. I think I gave a crystal raider battle scream, but I do not remember.
You both began to cry.
The Theran guards reclaimed their composure, raised their crossbows and fired. One missed me. The other caught me in the arm.