by Patti Larsen
“Where are we going?” I took his hand and followed him into the veil, heart heavy but with a duty to complete.
I thought you guessed, Max sent. To retrieve a piece of Creator.
***
Chapter Twenty Seven
I slipped onto his back as he shifted into drach shape. But it didn’t work, I sent, thinking of the rascally rabbit creature. He showed us a plane that he felt safe to explore.
Perhaps that’s all it was, Max sent. But Creator knows we seek her parts, Syd. And she showed Gabriel the entire Universe before Dark Brother interfered. Consider the gateway he chose to open when I asked him to try again was the same one you recalled from before.
You think subconsciously he knew what he was showing us? Was it really that easy?
There is only one way to find out, Max sent. Shall we?
I clung to him with faint hope and wondered if he was right. Didn’t matter now. Like he said, it either was the right place or it wasn’t. Worth a shot, considering all the jabbing in the dark we’d done so far. I held my breath as we cleared the giant slice he made in the veil and soared out into the open sky of the plane in question.
We’re flying? I could feel the thrum of intelligence in the power of this plane. Usually we landed and moved around on foot or through small slices in the veil when we visited other places. But Max’s broad wings swept through the crisp, clean air as he banked softly to the left toward what looked like a small, but pre-industrial, city.
I needed to stretch my wings, he sent. I have us shielded from view. It’s rather pretty to look at, isn’t it? A wide river dumped into the vast ocean beyond the port city, vibration of magic in common use explaining to me why this culture hadn’t adopted fossil fuels to grow and expand. I wished with a wistful sigh our plane had that luxury, that the Brotherhood’s need for dominance hadn’t crushed our willingness to share our talents with normals and saved our plane from all the ecological damage normals inflicted. One of our most sacred duties as witches was to reverse as much of that damage as possible, though we were fighting a losing battle.
How far would we have come if the Brotherhood had never been?
Max wheeled toward the edge of the city, setting us down behind a low, stone building the loveliest shade of pearl blue. I ran one hand over the rock, feeling the warmth of it as power zinged through the structure.
“An interesting species,” Max said. I turned to ask him what he meant and burst into laughter.
I hadn’t laid eyes on one of the main inhabitants yet, but seeing him in his adopted form gave me all the information I needed. He was still quite tall, but had a round, jutting belly with six perfectly circular indentations, all filled with sparkling jewels. His skin was tinted softly blue, like the stone, six eyes layered on top of each other making me squirm a bit. His hands seemed normal enough, like mine when I looked down to examine them, pearlized surface of the nails glinting in the sunlight. I had a similar belly to his, though I had hair. His bald head sported four twitching antenna that seemed to have lives of their own.
“Adorable,” I said. “You look so cuddly.”
Max’s smile was indulgent. “Better news,” he said, reserved excitement telling me he was more than a little worked up, “I believe my hunch might have paid off.”
My jaw dropped as he turned and circled the building, giant feet flapping on the ground like a pair of flippers, non-existent butt waddling back and forth, tucked under his giant belly. My stride felt normal, but I assumed I looked just as silly following him.
Like I cared. If there really was a piece of Creator here, I owed Gabriel a giant hug and kiss and anything else he wanted for the rest of his life.
This way, Max sent, leading me on. We cleared the edge of the building, crossing into a long, narrow road that led, in one direction, deeper into the city and, in the other, toward a towering construction of some kind. The wide, shrub dressed lane reminded me a bit of the Parade on Demonicon, the vast expanse at the base of the Seat where Ruler addressed the populace. But the tall and almost graceful building seemed different than the rest of the city, less a palace feel and more some kind of temple.
We avoided the strolling natives, though I caught myself giggling a time or two at how ridiculous they looked. How could they stand it? Then again, I guessed as I passed a pair of young women—their long, flowing hair was the only real giveaway, since they all looked the same to me otherwise—if they saw my true form they would probably think the same thing.
Antenna waved and bobbed, giant bellies bouncing over flat feet.
Yeah. Naw.
I followed Max to the front of the building, relieved to see we weren’t the only ones going inside. It would be awkward if there was some kind of taboo to us entering, though it would mean we’d have to sneak in instead, something to which I wasn’t at all opposed.
I can feel it. His excitement had grown past the ordinary and into buzzing delight. Max happy about something almost made me nervous. This civilization must have located the piece, he sent as we strode into the interior. I expected darkness, but, to my surprise, the walls themselves seemed to reflect light inward, making it just as bright indoors as it was out. Perhaps they are using it as a focus of their worship. This was definitely some kind of temple, with lines of benches and bars of padded material I realized were belly rests when I spotted an older resident with his giant paunch settled on it.
This could be tricky, I sent as we moved forward down long aisle toward the back of the building. It reminded me a bit of a cathedral at home, though much more open and bright, the center aisle wider, bench seats spread out in a semi-circular hub around the middle altar. The walls and floors were made of the same blue stone, the warmth of it reaching up through my feet. Almost as if it were alive. That was a creepy thought. If we try to take their sacred relic, we could run into problems.
We have instantaneous means of exiting this place, Max sent. And though I have no desire to intrude on their worship, the piece is far too valuable to leave in their hands for this simple purpose.
I totally agreed with him.
As we approached the altar, I scrunched my nose at the sight of the towering thing standing in the middle. Made of the same stone, it had seven trunks like an elephant’s, eleven arms and was covered in deep purple spots. A towering tuft of what looked like grass waved over its carved head.
Um, I sent as two of the residents bowed to their faces in front of it, big bellies bouncing off the floor, I don’t think so, Max.
How curious, he sent. And kept walking, this time around the altar to the right. I trailed after him, looking around and expecting opposition, but no one paid us any attention. Convenient.
Max passed through an archway and beyond, out of sight of the worshipers, into a long, low room behind the altar. It was a little darker in here, but not much, and I was drawn immediately to the sound of happy humming not too far away. Max slowed, waiting for me to match his pace, and the pair of us, me smiling my most diplomatic and hoping it wasn’t an insult on this plane to do so, circled a giant chunk of stone and came face-to-face with the cheerful hummer.
He—I assumed it was a he—jumped with a squeal like a piglet, dropping a large chisel from one hand. It bounced on the floor with a soft ringing sound as he clutched both hands over his bouncing belly.
“Dear Creator,” he said in a high pitched but masculine voice. “You frightened the jewels out of me.” My eyes traveled to the stones in the indentations on his bare belly and a giggle fought for freedom.
“Our apologies,” Max said. “We had merely wanted to meet the finest sculptor in all the land and were told this was the place to find him."
Our new friend’s blue cheeks darkened, a blush, I assumed, and he bobbed his head, antenna waving madly.
“By the Creator’s blessing,” he said with false modesty. “I’ve been gifted with the ability to render Her essence into life.” He gestured at what he’d been working on and I flinched from the odd looking d
uck creature with a giant fluffy tail growing out of its alligator-like behind.
Yikes. This place was off the charts.
“Stunning craftsmanship,” Max said. “We are honored to be in your presence.”
“Come to worship at the great Shrine, have you?” His six eyes seemed to study Max and me both at once. Creepy. Subtle hesitation rose in his voice, his manner, and I guessed we really weren’t supposed to be back here. But Max was already moving, turning slowly, gaze sweeping the space. Which left me to deal with shmuckface.
Lovely.
“We are art critics,” I said, wincing inwardly. Was that even a job here? But, from the instant reaction of enthusiasm from our new friend I’d hit the nail on the nose.
“Blessed be!” He lunged for me, pulled me closer. “I knew the Originator would send you one day. Please, give him my absolute best.” He paused, looking his sculpture up and down with what I could only guess from his expression was self-criticism. “Don’t judge my work by this mess,” he said, spinning me around. “My collection is vast and varied.” One of his chubby arms swept forward and I realized I missed the fact we were in some kind of warehouse space, packed with sculptures like this one. “Tell me, does he have a particular piece in mind?”
I grinned. “Now that you mention it…”
Max chuckled in my head. And turned from one of the long tables with a large, white hand in his grasp.
I froze, heart pounding suddenly. Is that…?
Indeed, my drach friend sent with a surge of fierce joy. A silver thread wound around his wrist. Both safe, he sent. We must go.
The sculptor’s suspicion rose, immediate and so powerful I felt him switch from excitement to anger. “Release it at once,” he said. “My greatest carving is not for sale, even to the Originator.”
“You had nothing to do with the creation of this piece,” Max said, voice soft. “And you know it.”
The sculptor’s belly jiggled as he lunged for my friend, but Max held him off easily. The song of the drach rose from the ribbon of silver, our carver friend coming to a halt at the sound. His six eyes widened, antenna drooping, as he backed away with sudden fear oozing from every pore.
“Guards!” He backed into his sculpture so hard it teetered slowly over, crashing to the floor. I suppose I could have used magic to save it, but it was ugly enough not to bother. Meanwhile, the sculptor simply kept back pedaling. “GUARDS!”
Time to go, Max sent, reaching for my hand.
I reached back—
—and everything. Stopped.
The Universe inhaled.
Exhaled.
And shifted.
***
Chapter Twenty Eight
I staggered, though more from shock than actual loss of balance. The sculptor was gone. Just gone. Poof. Vanished into thin air. And, from the sudden and utter silence, he wasn’t the only one.
“What the hell?” I took a step away from Max who followed me as I crept out and into the main temple.
Empty. Not a soul left behind. I gaped at the loss of people, reaching out with my power to discover the city, once thriving and bustling, had fallen completely and utterly still.
“Where did they go?” I spun on Max who shrugged his big shoulders, pressing the hand into my grip. The silver ribbon that was the drach soul guardian of the piece slipped its coolness around my wrist, humming softly, vibrating my bones with its song.
“I don’t know,” he said, grim and dark, “though I can guess. The Universes, Syd. They are beginning to merge thanks to the damage done not only to spirit magic but from the gap in the protections holding the Universes apart. The loss of Creator’s heart, the shifting of her power around the planes after being so long dormant…” He held very still, almost statue like, reminding me of a vampire in his total physical silence. When Max finally shuddered gently, returning to normal, I shivered in turn. “I’m guessing,” he said, softly angry, though with himself, I could tell. “I have no real answers, only fears. But, one thing is certain. The people who lived here are gone.”
To the other side? “Are they okay?” Impossible to know. Why was I asking him, adding to his obvious stress? Because I shared it, I guess.
“Perhaps,” he said. “Total speculation. But it’s possible they now exist in, if not a parallel plane, one where they might encounter their alternates. Of a darker vein.”
That didn’t sound good. “What can we do?”
Max’s tension didn’t ease as his magic swept out past me, leaving me to huddle around the hand, holding it tight to my chest. Funny how the rock didn’t feel heavy, though the piece was easily the size of my upper body. It had to be the drach soul keeping it from pulling me to the ground with its weight.
“We need to go.” Max retreated at last, a flash of worry in his voice. But he was too late, and, from the grim anger on his face as he lowered his big head to meet my eyes, he already knew it.
I could do nothing but stand there as a ring of black tunnels opened around us and the Brotherhood stepped through.
Liander Belaisle hadn’t changed, not much, anyway. A little smugger, more weasely looking with his ugly goatee and pale gold eyes. He was just my height, a small man in more ways than one, compensating for something. At least it made me feel better to think so.
Sorcery crushed in around us, the twenty or so Brotherhood members who joined him all young, all male, all fiercely attached to his cause from the press of their power and the eagerness on their faces. I tried to tear at the veil but my magic was instantly smothered, so I retreated on purpose, protecting myself and my energy while Max just stood there and glared with a mix of sadness and resignation on his gray face.
He’d dropped our disguises. Guess we didn’t need them anymore.
“What have you done, sorcerer?” Max’s voice echoed through the empty temple.
“Don’t be such a sore loser, drach,” Belaisle said with his own particular brand of irritating arrogance, wiping at an imaginary fleck of dust on his pinstriped lapel. “Just hand over the piece and this will all be over.”
“Come and get it, Belaisle,” I said, clutching the chunk of Creator tighter to me.
He rolled his eyes, sighed dramatically. “Seriously, Sydlynn,” he said as though to a petulant child. “You’ve lost. Accept it.” A nasty grin curved his lips. “I might even leave you alive and whole to track the rest of the pieces for me, if you’re a good girl.”
Asshat.
“What have you done with the people of this plane?” He had to have told Dark Brother or something, triggered the shift.
To my surprise, he seemed genuinely confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, “nor do I care to.” Only then did I feel him drawing in power, sucking up the very lifeblood of the plane around us. I moved to cut him off but he was faster, stronger, at least in sorcery. And pouring my energy into countering him would just leave me vulnerable.
I couldn’t let him take the hand.
We’re in trouble here, I sent to Max. Can you get through the veil?
I cannot, he sent.
Belaisle is building power, I sent. If we let him go much longer, we’re toast.
I’m open to suggestions, the drach said. Perhaps my true form might give us a size advantage.
Can we please just go home now? Who the hell was that? Whoever it was talking directly to my mind sounded whiny. I didn’t have time for whiny, thanks. First you manhandle me, then you just stand around and do nothing while I’m in danger.
Oh, hell no. Tell me it wasn’t true.
Some rescue this is, the hand sent.
You have a personality, I sent back, thinking of the Stronghold. At least I’d liked him. He was nice. This one was already a pain in my ass.
So do you, the hand shot back. Borderline.
It was lucky I didn’t chuck it at Belaisle and be done with it. No, him. Definitely a whiny, meeping little him.
You try spending eternity trapped in a hand, he s
napped at me. Not so much fun as you might think.
Can you help against Belaisle? That would be too easy. While I waited for a response, I addressed the sorcerer directly. “You do realize,” I said, “you’re tearing the Universe apart, you dumbass. That if you succeed, Dark Brother will send his army over and there will be nothing left, Belaisle. Nothing. Not even you.”
He just laughed at me while the hand sighed in my head.
You’re wasting your time, he snapped. Get on with it.
A little help?
Sydlynn, Max sent, bemused. Who are you talking to?
I didn’t get a chance to respond. As I prepped a biting comment about Creator’s hand and his attitude, something hit me hard from behind, driving me to my knees, jerking my arms open.
And the hand fell to the stone floor with a clatter. Then disappeared as it rose for a second bounce.
I looked up, terrified, into Belaisle’s furious face. But wait, that meant…
He didn’t have it either.
I spun just in time, while Belaisle shouted and Max lunged, to see Trill crouching next to me, her arms wrapped around the reappeared hand, disappear in a flare of magic. Trill, my friend, maji blooded, supposed to be on my side.
Stole the hand from me.
The silver ribbon remained around my wrist, sighed sadness, sagging off my skin to fall to the floor. I barely had time to gather myself for an attack when Belaisle and his sorcerers all disappeared through tunnels of darkness, the red faced leader of the Brotherhood screaming incoherent orders at his people until they were gone.
The sudden silence gave me a headache. Max crouched beside me, one big hand lifting the ribbon from the floor, the other guiding me to my feet. I staggered a little, knees weak, in complete shock.
“What the hell just happened?”
“She appeared from nowhere,” he said. “Hit you and stole the hand.” He shrugged, anger in his gesture, though not aimed at me. “This deceit was planned, Syd.”