by Joseph Lallo
Myranda was silent. She felt numb, and not because of the cold. The cold, the night, the world, they were all a thousand miles away. Her mind was burning his words. Lain, all those years ago, had spoken to her father. It was his doing that she had survived that horrible day, and if only her mother had stayed in her home, she too would be alive. And her father . . . the dungeon. She had heard tales of it. Everyone had. It was legendary. Buried beneath the capital, it extended downward and outward like a system of mines. The worst of criminals were kept there. A man inside was as good as in his grave. He would never see the sun again. Prisoners there were forgotten, erased from the world. All of these years Myranda had feared that her father had been killed in battle. Now she wished he had. He couldn't have survived this long in such a place. Starvation, disease, torture . . . . He had come to a terrible end there. It was foolishness to think otherwise. He was dead now, perhaps after years alone in that wretched hole in the ground.
The girl's tortured mind was still struggling with this terrible revelation when Lain stopped and set down his load. There was no shelter to speak of, and the winds at the foot of the mountainside were constant. The icy fingers of night were the first things to break through the veil of agony her mind had erected. Surely he didn't mean to rest now. They would be in plain sight of anyone who might pass by.
"You don't intend for us to spend the night here, do you?" Myranda asked.
"I felt her stir. Ivy is waking," he said.
It was true. The creature was moving her head and groaning. She tried to sit up, and succeeded with the help of Lain. Her eyes slowly opened. She sniffed and threw her mouth wide in a long, deep yawn. She saw Myranda before her and smiled sleepily. Then she turned to see Lain. His hand was on her shoulder. She pulled back slightly, the hint of fear in her eyes. She sniffed and seemed to calm slightly, the fear turning to confusion or even recognition.
"Myranda . . . w-who is this?" Ivy asked.
"This is Lain. He is a friend," She said.
"Lain . . . I know that name too," she said, looking nervously at Lain. "They said it a lot. He is a friend?"
She mustered a meek smile again. Suddenly it dropped away.
"A friend like Ether?" she asked suspiciously.
"No, better than Ether," Myranda said with a smile.
Lain cast a questioning look at Myranda.
"Ether is the name I've given to the shape shifter," Myranda explained.
"Then the shape shifter managed to find you," Lain said.
"I'm hungry," Ivy interrupted.
Lain looked to Myn. She was still holding a now partially frozen prize from her earlier hunt. She proudly presented it to him. It was a rather meager offering, hardly enough for one. The two creatures exchanged glances and, without a word, rushed off into the night.
"Where are they going?" she asked.
"I imagine they are going to hunt down a fresher meal," Myranda said.
"You aren't going to go with them, are you?" Ivy asked, looking nervously into the blackness that surrounded them.
"I don't think I would be of much help. Ivy, tell me. What do you remember about our encounter outside the fort," Myranda asked.
Ivy shuddered.
"I remember I was scared. Myn was scared too. Then I heard you scream. I couldn't hold onto her, she ran out after you. I didn't want to, but, I knew he would kill you. I tried to help, but he got me and . . . then light . . . then dark," she said.
She shut her eyes tight. It was as though it hurt her to remember.
"You were hurt then. I saw the blood . . . why aren't you hurt now?" she asked.
"I am something of a healer," Myranda said.
"Healer . . . but . . . how long have I been asleep?" she asked, looking up to Myranda.
"A bit under two days," Myranda said.
"How could you heal so quickly?" she asked.
"A spell," she said.
"You mean . . . magic. I thought magic only made things worse. All they ever tried to teach me was how to hurt things," she said.
"They tried to teach you magic?" Myranda asked.
"A little. Near the beginning. I was no good at it. I'm no good at anything, but I was so bad they stopped trying to teach me. They started using it on me," she said.
Her eyes shut tight again and the pained look returned.
"What other things did they try to teach you?" Myranda asked.
"Everything. Too much. I don't want to think about it," she said.
She tried to stand, but even with Myranda's hand to steady her, she dropped dizzily to the ground again.
"I wish Myn would come back. I like her," she said, yawning again.
"Myn . . . is she a year old yet? I can't remember," Myranda admitted. "How old are you, Ivy?"
Ivy smiled and held up a few fingers. Then the smile dropped away. She looked at the fingers, then her hands. A look of deepening confusion came to her face.
"I'm . . . I'm . . . " she stuttered. She was visibly upset.
"What sort of creature are you?" Myranda asked.
"I'm like y- . . . no. I'm . . . " she said hesitantly.
Tears were beginning to well in her eyes and they darted slightly, as though a long lost memory was fighting its way into her mind.
"Something . . . something is wrong. I . . . I don't . . . I'm not . . . " she attempted.
Finally the tears began to roll down her cheeks. Myranda knelt down and embraced her to comfort her. The creature hugged her tightly and began to sob. Feelings of pity, and more so, concern swept into Myranda's mind along with the sadness of the creature forcing its way through. She had held up six fingers when asked her age. From the smile on her face when asked, she was initially sure of it. Six years old? How long had she been in their hands? She even seemed unsure of what she was. Had they changed her? These questions swiftly drew others that continued to plague her. She knew better than to expect any answers.
#
Deacon closed his door and threw up an array of subtle but powerful locking spells. It was a useless gesture, there was no spell he could conjure that could not be broken by his peers, but in the light of his actions, he had to take some sort of precaution. Taking a seat at his desk, he reached inside his cloak and removed a small satchel. He unfastened the string and reached inside. Out came an impossibly large book he’d taken from the library, then another, then another. The satchel was the culmination of several months of work earlier in his training. It could contain anything that could fit through the opening. No one besides Gilliam ever knew that he had made it.
Quickly he began to transcribe the notes within. He had to be swift. The missing books would be noticed. Had this been any other time, he would have been ashamed, nay, disgusted by his behavior. Stealing the books had required the exploitation of every aspect of his art that the others distrusted, but it was necessary. The gaps in his spell were too wide. It might work, but only under the best conditions. That would not do. The severity of the circumstances was the very reason the spell had to be created. Finally, when all of the new information was collected, he put the stylus down. It wasn't enough. The knowledge wasn't there, and without it the odds were against him. He closed the books and slid them back into the satchel. The odds . . . the spell could not be improved . . . perhaps . . .
#
Ivy had calmed down by the time Lain and Myn returned. They had tracked down a mountain goat. The look of pride on Myn's face was priceless as Lain dropped it down before Ivy. The grief stricken creature instantly perked up at the sight of the meal. Myranda opened her mouth to offer to cook a piece of it for Ivy, but before she could get the words out, Ivy had torn off a piece with her teeth. Myn did likewise and Lain sliced off a piece for himself. Myranda turned away. She'd had a hard enough time adjusting to Myn's eating habits. This was too much for her. When the meal had been finished, there was more than enough left for her. Her hunger overcame her revulsion. She cut away a piece and tried to apply a spell to cook it. Too little sleep and to
o much stress made it more of a task than usual. Ivy, licking blood from her lips with a look far more innocent and satisfied than such an act should ever allow, became intrigued.
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Cooking the meat . . . or trying to," she said, pausing to let the frustration pass.
"Why?" she asked.
"I can't eat it raw like you. It would make me sick," she said.
"Are you sure? It tastes great. It the best thing I have ever eaten," she said.
"I'm sure," Myranda said.
"Why? I can eat it. Myn and Lain can too," she said.
"Myn is an animal. You and Lain are . . . well, the three of you are better suited to a life like this than I am," Myranda said.
"So, Lain and I are . . . like animals then," she said.
"No, no, no, you're . . . " Myranda began to reassure her.
Suddenly Lain's fingers shot to the hilt of his sword and he turned swiftly. A stiff, steady wind began to blow in the wrong direction, against the mountains. This could be only one thing. Sure enough, the wind swirled tightly together and formed into the familiar human form of the shape shifter, Ether.
"Once again you prove useful to me, human. You should be honored," she said. "Lain, your skill at evasion is a match for my skill of detection. You have proven yourself to me. It is time that you and I set about our task as Chosen in earnest."
"Oh, no. Not you!" Ivy whined.
"I am sorry that you have had to endure the presence of this abomination. As you have no doubt noticed, her essence has been sullied by the will of the D'karon. It is in the best interest of the world that the inevitable demise that her weak mind would have led her to be allowed to occur, such that another more worthy spawn of the gods may take her place," she said.
"See, she's mean!" Ivy said. "Why don't you go away!"
"I intend to," Ether said.
"Really?" Ivy said.
"Lain and I will have no use for the likes of you. We shall be on our way," Ether said.
"Wait, you are going to take Lain? But . . . Lain brought me food. He brought me a goat. It is my favorite food ever. That means he is nice. Why are you going to take him?" Ivy asked.
"I do not need to justify myself to you," she said.
"I have my own plans. You have no place in them," Lain said.
Ivy clapped joyously. Ether's eyes narrowed.
"I had anticipated such a reaction," she said. "What precisely is your plan?"
"None of your concern," he said.
"Ha, ha," Ivy laughed mockingly.
"I naturally would have preferred that our partnership be a willing one, but it needn't be. Now that I have found you, you cannot be rid of me. I require no sleep, and I am not so foolish as to be distracted again. In time you will either see that my help is invaluable or rid yourself of the mortals you have so burdened yourself with in hopes of evading me. In either case, the outcome is beneficial to me," she said.
"What? No!" Ivy objected.
Lain showed little reaction, but it was clear that he was not pleased. Ivy looked pleadingly to Myranda to produce some manner of solution. Myranda merely returned to the task of rendering the meal edible without a fire. Myn, satisfied that those who mattered to her were not upset, simply ignored those who did not, curling up in Myranda's lap. Defeated, Ivy crossed her arms and pouted. Lain scanned the horizon and sniffed at the air. No one was near, at least not to the east, out of which blew the stiff mountain winds. His real concern was in the south. The person he had seen had been heading in that direction. Myranda was not a difficult person to find for those sufficiently skilled, and Lain could think of no other reason one might brave this frozen waste save to find her. There were powerful people on her trail. Normally, he would face such a foe immediately, but now there was Ivy. She must be kept from harm. Nevertheless, the surest way to ensure her safety was to take her to the south as soon as possible. There could be no delay. He would have to take his chances.
The long journey had taken its toll on the others. A semblance of shelter was found. Shortly after, Lain crouched and slipped into his bizarre substitute for sleep and Myranda wrapped her cloak tightly about herself and Myn against the cold. Soon the only members of the odd group that were awake were Ivy and Ether. Ivy shot Ether angry stares. Ether seemed to look through her with an air of unquestioned superiority. For a time a there was a mutual feeling of dislike, but a few hours boredom and curiosity weakened Ivy's resolve.
"So . . . Ether. You can change into anything?" she asked.
Ether stood silent.
"Ether?" Ivy asked, optimistically believing that she had not been heard the first time.
The shape shifter turned away.
"Can all humans turn into different things?" Ivy asked.
Ether flinched. Ivy grinned.
"I am not a human. Humans are stupid, emotional, worthless creatures. I am beyond human," she stated sternly.
"Well, right now you're human. And you were one before, so you must be a human pretty often," Ivy reasoned.
"I assume this form to more gracefully interact with the weak minded who could not comprehend my more fundamental forms," she said.
"But right now, you're human, yes?" Ivy asked.
"Yes," Ether said.
"And later you will change shape, yes?" Ivy asked.
"As soon as the situation requires it," Ether said.
"So, humans can change shape then," Ivy said.
"Absolutely not!" Ether corrected.
"You are a human, you just said! And if humans can't change shape, then you can't change back!" Ivy said.
Ether turned to face her. Her eyes were narrowed and her fist clenched in frustrated anger.
"I will not waste time and energy forcing understanding into an unwilling mind," she fumed.
"Uh huh. That just means I win," Ivy said.
"You did not win. There was nothing to win," Ether snapped.
"Well, you are talking to me now. You weren't before," Ivy said.
"Yes, a mistake I will rectify at once," she said.
She crossed her arms and turned away again. Ivy smiled.
"For someone who claims to be 'above' emotions, you certainly get mad easily," she said.
Ether whipped around, rage in her eyes. The sight before her was Ivy with a satisfied smile.
"Now I am going to stop talking to you," she said.
Grinning triumphantly and crossing her arms, she sat on the ground and leaned against Myranda's back. She wasn't tired, not remotely, but she closed her eyes. She could downright feel the rage in Ether. The creature who acted so superior was no different from herself. It was a satisfying discovery. For her part, Ether fairly shook with anger. She had never felt so manipulated, and she had never hated a being more. She had never hated before. The fact that this pretender had instilled such a feeling, such a weakness, only intensified it. Her rage was a fire that was fueled by its own existence. Finally, she released it in its most literal form, shifting to flame. The thought of directing her wrath at Ivy lingered in her mind, but instead she used it to reduce a sizable mount of snow to boiling water. The edge of her rage thus blunted, she shifted to water to spend the rest of the night restoring a fraction of her power.
When morning came, Lain was the first to rise, as he had never truly slept. The wind blew with frustrating steadiness from the mountains. It carried little information he sought. Quietly, Ivy joined him. She looked him over with curiosity. He sniffed at the air, she imitated. She continued looking him over, comparing him to herself. He was like her. More like her by far than anything else she had seen or smelled. She had fur, he had fur. She had pointed ears, he had pointed ears. She had a tail . . .
"Where is your tail?" she asked.
He looked at her for a moment, then turned back to his task. Ivy frowned.
"When I was younger it was cut off and sold," he said after a moment.
"That's terrible. Why?" she asked.
Again Lain hesi
tated before answering.
"It was more highly valued than I," he said.
" . . . You and I . . . are we the same?" she asked.
"We are," he said.
"Then . . . is that going to happen to me?" she asked.
"No," he answered immediately. "That will not happen to you."
Ivy smiled. The sudden snap and crackle of ice drew their attention. Ether had chosen to rise. After climbing from the frozen pool, she shifted to her human form once more. Ivy gave her a sneer.
"Well, now that this exercise in weakness is over, I trust we can continue," she said.
"Not yet. Myranda isn't up yet," Ivy said.
"Myranda is meaningless. She and the lizard have fulfilled what little role they had," Ether said.
"Well, I'm not leaving without her," Ivy said.
Ether's eyes narrowed. Quickly she forced composure on herself. She would not give this creature the satisfaction of showing anger.
"Very well. If you wish to waste time and further damage our cause, by all means, do so," she said.
"No need," came Myranda's voice wearily.
She hoisted herself to her feet and stretched her stiff joints. She had barely slept, and was chilled to the core, but she refused to burden the others. Myn restored her own warmth with a few bursts of flame. Myranda opened and closed her hands a few times until the feeling began to return to her fingers. Lain continued on his way, setting a pace that most easily matched. Myranda had to fairly run to keep up. As she did, she allowed tiny doses of magic to restore enough warmth to her ailing body to convince herself she was out of danger. In the distance there was a fair sized stand of trees beside a small, icy lake. Myranda searched her memory for the name of either, but in all likelihood this unremarkable spot in this icy plain simply didn't warrant one.