~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Seeing Eilidh look up from the note, Toli smiled and said, “I don't know exactly what your quest is, but it must be important if Master Gamaliel is involved. Could you use a magician? I’m only Life Calling, I’m afraid, but—”
“—But I could use a friend,” Eilidh put in, still half distracted by her own deep thoughts. “I can be that, too,” Toli agreed, simply.
Eilidh was startled by that response, but fixed Toli with a penetrating stare as she laid out the facts. “If you join me,” she said, “you will have to accept there are things I cannot tell you. My quest is connected with the sudden changes in Council Leadership and the chaos creatures. Beyond that, I can't tell you the details of my ultimate goal. As a matter of fact, I'm not altogether sure what my ultimate goal is. It will be dangerous, of that you can be certain.”
Toli shrugged. “It seems to me that everywhere is dangerous right now,” she pointed out, matchingEilidh’s serious tone. “If I don't go with you, I will be fighting in the war. I'm only a grade one magician, so I don't think I can make much difference in that way. On an important quest with you, maybe I can be of more help. I understand the risks, Eilidh, and I appreciate the need for secrecy. I hope, in time, I will prove myself to you so you can tell me more. Until then, I'm content to follow you on faith. Please take me with you! At the very least I can be a friend to you and that can only be positive.”
Despite not being entirely comfortable with the faith part, something for which Eilidh had little time, it made sense to accept Toli's help. “When you put it like that, Toli, I would be honoured to consider you an ally and a friend.”
Eilidh and Toli had just shaken hands, when both were startled by the voice of a man from behind them. “I say, O Esteemed Leader,” said the very jolly sounding voice, “this is all ever so touching an' all, but would you mind turning the lights on, so to speak?”
They both whirled around, Eilidh held her dagger ready, while a spell began to take shape in Toli's mind, but they could see no-one.
“Egad!” came the voice again. “I do wish you wouldn't do that! I mean, I'm all for exciting rides, but you nearly blew my lid off!”
“Er, exactly where are you?” Eilidh asked, somewhat confused.
“And exactly what are you?” Toli added. “Whaddya think this is?” demanded the irritated voice. “Quiz night at the Red Dragon Inn? `Is it animal, vegetable, mineral or magical`?” The voice continued, doing a very bad impression of the barkeep of that wellknown tavern. Having apparently made its point, it suggested, “If you'll kindly take off your travel bag and take out that teapot you washed so lovingly last night, I'll be happy to tell you everything I know. Well, maybe not everything. Since I know everything it would take me a very long time to tell you all of it.”
Eilidh obediently did as she was asked, despite feeling a little silly talking to a teapot in a bag. Immediately after she put it on the ground, it disappeared and in its place, stood a tall, handsome man of indeterminate age. He was dressed in a white silk shirt, which billowed out of the sleeves of his red velvet jacket. A pair of blue-green, silk breeches and purple hose covered his legs. His clashing ensemble was finished off with a pair of black shoes and a brown hat, sitting on his own short brown hair. At a movement of his left hand, a similarly bright orange silk handkerchief fluttered down from nowhere. He caught it and held it up to his face, which was now wearing an exaggeratedly distraught expression.
“Egad!” he exclaimed. “I thought I was going to suffocate in there! And then to be whizzed about like a spinning top! I would've thought you'd be satisfied with sitting on me and squashing me, and then nearly sending me flying off the desk, to the other side of the room. Even that lamp, which I would have thought was easy enough to see...sink me dear girl, you could have set fire to the place! I don't think The Chief Balanced One would've been so keen to `dispense with formalities` then. You're lucky he didn't send for his Dark and Silent Guards to lock you up as a danger to yourself and everyone around you.” With that, he promptly flopped onto a bright blue sofa that had just appeared, draped the orange silk over his face and sighed, “Egad!”
Unimpressed by this melodrama, Eilidh demanded, “If you've quite finished, I would appreciate it if you would tell me who you are.” He peered at the Catalyst with one eye from behind the orange silk. “You mean you don't know?” he demanded, apparently quite put out. “I'm definitely going to have to talk to my PR people about this,” he grumbled. A notebook appeared out of thin air, along with a pen, which wrote in an entry all by itself. As this strange individual stood up, the diary, pen, orange silk and sofa all vanished. “Let me introduce myself,” he offered. “My name's Kismet,” he bowed, theatrically, “and I'm at your service...for a while, at least. I say, isn't that what the Lady Moriah said when she started her fifth affair? ...Or was it her sixth? ...No, it was definitely her fifth. Her sixth one was with that fat bloke...what was his name...Vash? ...Vora?” He snapped his fingers. “Oh I remember: Vorash - King Vorash, that was it. Anyway, I'm here to help from time to time.”
Eilidh wasn't sure she wanted to encourage this Kismet, with his scandalous repartee, but on the other hand, she decided he might just be daft enough to volunteer. So she asked if he would join her quest.
“Sorry dear girl, I'm afraid I'm far too busy for that,” he replied. His diary reappeared in front of his nose and the pages flicked over by themselves. “Hmmm, yes, that's what I thought,” he mused. “The diary's just too full.”
Tolbrietta jumped up and snatched the diary out of the air. “Full? It's blank!” She objected, flicking through the pages. “Every page is completely blank!” “Well of course it's blank!” Kismet replied, indignantly. The diary vanished. “Do you really think I'd write down all my business in a diary for all to see? Imagine if it got stolen! If it's blank it doesn't matter. Nobody can use it to cause trouble.”
“But in that case, what's the point of carrying a diary?” asked the Catalyst.
“Oh, I'd be lost without my diary. Absolutely lost. I'm a busy man and I wouldn't have a clue where I'm supposed to be without my diary.”
A bewildered Eilidh decided to let it drop at that.
“But hey,” Kismet continued. “I've got a bit of free time right about now, and I did say I'd love to help, so help I shall.”
“Oh good,” Eilidh remarked, dryly, “I'm delighted.” Her sarcasm was lost on Kismet.
“I suppose you'd like my advice as to what to do next? I dare say you'd like me to,” he wiggled his fingers, “conjure up a merry band of people for you, as well.”
“Could you really do that?” Toli wondered. “Sink me, dear girl. I was actually joking! Still, I suppose I could help a bit. First, I think it’ s worth pointing out, Eilidh, that your Oath of Secrecy doesn't apply to me. After all, I was there all the time and heard every word. Now, let's see...”
“Hold on just a minute, what do you mean you were there all the time? How could you possibly? ...Great Abyss!” she swore in sudden realisation. The Catalyst had a growing, nagging suspicion that if one could cut through all the ridiculous nonsense Kismet spouted, there was an important grain of truth to be learned. Even in the heart of the most profound chaos in the world, there was usually the seed of order. “The sofa, the paperweight, the lamp, all you?”
Kismet bowed. “And of course the teapot.” “Shapeshifting magic? Kismet, don't you know how irresponsible that is? It’s fine for dragons because they don’t age they way us mortals do, but you can lose up to a year of your life every time you do it, don't you realise that?”
He spread his hands, helplessly. “Who wants to live forever?” Eilidh rolled her eyes, but she wasn’t going to be dis tracted. Her first thought was that it was some kind of elaborate illusion, but that wasn’t it. As a Catalyst, Eilidh was by Gift and by training able to sense and identify every kind of magic on Majaos. She knew what illusion magic, magic of the Secret ofShadow, looked like. This was altogether different. No, this wasn’t illusi
on magic, this was, well, it was unlike anything she had ever sensed before. This was something new...something old.
“But shapeshifting into inanimate objects is impossible and even if it wasn't,” Eilidh continued. “Even if a human could use magic to change into, say, a teapot, there's no way for a teapot to cast the spells necessary to change into a human. Inanimate objects are magically Dead and as soon as you changed into one, you should be magically Dead too. It is therefore impossible to change back.”
“Things are only impossible until they're not,” Kismet insisted. “Anyway, never mind me, what about this party of yours? I think it's high time you thought about who you want to join you.”
Like I can just pick and choose!Eilidh thought to herself. “And what would you suggest?” she asked aloud, trying hard to keep her flip tongue under control. “Well,” Kismet scratched the back of his neck with his left forefinger, pondering the question. “You may even be better just grabbing a warrior for protection and going off to Shakaran. Their war preparations have been going on for a long time, if indeed they ever stopped – you know what they’re like down there. Still,” he mused, mostly to himself, “I daresay a lot of people will be very grateful to the Shakaran people before this is over. It's a risk, but a reasonable one, I think. Once there, it should be easy enough to find people who are willing to go on a `mysterious quest of vital importance to King and Country`.”
Eilidh blushed at hearing her own expression repeated back to her.
“I really must stress the importance of adding a fighter to our merry band, though. Just in case we run into trouble along the way, which I'm sure we won't.Just in case.”
* * * * * Eilidh and Toli paid a visit to the Merlyon Warrior's Guild and discretely asked around while Kismet stayed outside. It wasn't a good day. Of those who would even talk to Eilidh, most were not interested, unwilling to miss out on earning glory for themselves in the coming war. Those who were interested all seemed wholly unsuitable, ineffectual fighters, drunken dwarves or arrogant ogres who thought they should be party leaders. Sadly there were no Knights of either light or dark orders, and balanced Knights were little more than a myth. Everybody seemed to know a friend whose sister had met someone in a tavern who overheard the bartender telling someone that a customer had definitely seen a Knight of Balance. Not terribly useful. Knights could be a bit stuffy and rigid in their ideals, but at least they would be well-trained, skilful warriors who could be relied upon to commit themselves to an honourable quest. In the end, they had to give up, and decided to try their luck at a nearby inn.
A young woman swept into the Elven Home Tavern just behind them, golden plate armour flashing in the sunlight, blue cape flying behind her, displaying a gold falcon crest of whichever noble house her family belonged to. She strode powerfully but gracefully over to the bar, removing her helm and flicking back her long, wavy ginger hair. She ordered an ale and sat down. Just then, Eilidh was nearly knocked over by a dwarf staggering toward the bar. “Out of my way braeghwar!” Eilidh wasn't familiar enough with the ancient dwarven language to translate the word, but the meaning was clear enough. “Yer sort ain't welcome in 'ere,” he grumbled. “Barman!” He banged his fist on the bar. “Dwarf Spirits! Now!”
Toligasped, “Eilidh? Didn't you see the way he just treated you? So rude!”
The Catalyst shrugged. “No more so than most.”
“You mean others treat you that way, too?”
“All the time, it's quite normal.”
“Well it's your business I suppose, but I'm sure I wouldn't stand for it.” It seemed Tolbrietta was not alone in her opinion, because the Knight glared at the dwarf and said, “Methinks that thou hast surely had enough already. Certainly, it can only be thy inebriated state that didst cause thee to display such incredible lackings in thy basic common courtesies.”
“Ye wanna make somethin' of it, Knight bitch?”
“Art thou intending to offer a challenge, sir?” “Yer damn right I am!” He lifted his battle -axe above his head to strike and let out a drunken battle cry at the Knight lady who had yet to move. She was unconcerned. Her opponent had already made his mistake. It was one of the most basic truths of hand-to-hand combat: a thrust is always faster than a swing. Quick as a flash, her gauntleted fist shot out and caught him square on the nose. Ordinarily, knocking a dwarf off his feet was near impossible, but with the effects of alcohol and the already precarious balance of swinging his battle-axe backward over his head, the Knight's punch was enough to send him toppling backwards and crashing to the floor. Eilidh was reasonably sure he'd passed out before he'd even hit the ground.
“If there is one thing I canst nary abide,” the Knight remarked, “'tis bad manners - especially to women. Come, Catalyst and magician, sit with me and prithee tell wherefore art thou here, if nothing prevents thee, for I perceive it is not merely for the charming company.” She indicated the comatose dwarf. “In my reckoning, thou art adventurers. What dost thou seekest? Mayhap I canst help thee?”
The two new friends took places beside the Knight, who removed her gauntlets and shook their hands, introducing herself as Lady Hannah Collins, Knight Initiate of Paladinia. Eilidh and Toli offered their names in return and the Catalyst explained their need for a warrior for protection on their quest intended to investigate the many strange circumstances central to the declared war, with a hope to `strike at the heart of the matter`. Eilidh decided that phrase would likely appeal to a Knight. It did.
“Thy quest doth sound both intriguing and most honourable. I would deem it a personal favour if thou shouldst consider me a suitable companion for thee.”
Eilidh glanced quickly at Toli, who gave an instant nod of assent. “The honour would be ours, Lady Collins.”
The Knight waved that aside, “Please, simply Hannah will suffice. Now, I do perceive that thou art anxious to be off.”
“It's true, although I don't know why I should feel this way. Since I have no real clue where I'm supposed to go,you wouldn't think it would matter how fast we get there. But somehow it does.” “Then let us away. I must needs only report to the barracks and request to be placed on detached duty. My commanding officer, Knight Officer Sir Warren Mitchell, wilt doubtless support me in this endeavour - a finer gentleman thou canst scarce imagine. It shall be my way of fulfilling the questing requirement to become a Knight Warrior, so ‘tis but a formality that must needs be observed. Then I shall be fully at thy command.”
Chapter 2
“We will use the Corridors as far as Shakaran's borderlands,” Kismet told the three of them, “but then we must walk. We'll be going out of our way a fair bit but it's better than getting clobbered by some Creature of Chaos, or more likely having to answer a lot of awkward questions about why we're casually using a major Corridor in wartime. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but certain overzealous Enforcers might consider you an unusual group.”
Eilidh bit her tongue to keep from sniping back, “You think we look unusual, have you looked in a mirror lately?” Without further discussion, they stepped into a Corridor – one of a network of space-time tunnels that had criss-crossed the continent since Ancient times - and an instant later, they found themselves amongst trees and bushes and flowers. Smooth, rolling hills, none high enough to attract white snowy peaks, just misty summits. Eilidh could identify elm and oak, sharing the land with smaller bushes and shrubs. There was a small stream meandering by, weeping willows framing the banks. Eilidh didn't know much about flowers but at least she knew wild roses when she saw them. The land existed in a semi-wild, semi-tamed state. They were exactly where they were supposed to be
- standing within the Borderlands of Shakaran.
“Right now,” Kismet declared, “I don't expect to be attacked, but we really should keep as quiet as possible and not draw any attention to ourselves.” Then looking down at himself, he exclaimed, “Egad! These clothes will never do!”
“You think?” Eilidh couldn't resist saying, acidly.
“Absolutely, I'm bound to get dirty and you can never get grass stains out.” His attire then instantly changed to a leather doublet and breeches, in a shade of green that blended nicely with the surrounding foliage, along with tall brown leather boots and brown leather gloves. His brown hat remained as it was, but then a bright orange feather appeared in his hand. Sticking the feather in his hat, he remarked, “I call it Macaroni! Do you like it?”
Kismet smiled as if at some clever joke, but the humour was lost on his audience, so he just shrugged and led them away.
* * * * * After walking for some time in the oppressive, muggy conditions, Eilidh asked Kismet to stop for a while as they were beginning to feel tired and hungry. At least the two magic-users were. Hannah could probably have gone on for hours and would never have voiced a word of complaint no matter what.
“Sink me!” he cried. “I was g etting so carried away with the excitement of it all, I'd completely forgotten about mundane things like food and rest. Tell you what, though. Rather than waste your provisions, O Esteemed Leader, that plant over there's quite edible.” He indicated a kind of thick green vine, which appeared to be quite abundant in the region. Picking up a twig, he wrote three letters in the soil.
K I J...Kij. “That's its name.” “A Kij vine?” Toli wondered.
“No, no. It's pronounced `key`.” “Oh, a Kij vine,” Toli repeated, this time with the correct pronunciation. “How interesting. Well there's plenty of it to experiment with. I mean, we can try it raw, obviously, but we can boil it, or just let it simmer. There might even be some other vegetables around here. Get a fire going we could make a stew. Hmmm.”
“While you eat and rest,” Kismet offered, “I'll scout ahead a bit.” With that, he strode off, and disappeared over the brow of a hill. The three companions sat down to relax and talk about inconsequential things for a while, getting to know one another. At least, Hannah and Toli did the talking while Eilidh mostly just listened, giving short, simple answers to specific questions. The conversation turned to a discussion of how it had been a dark, damp and gloomy kind of day, but thankfully it hadn't actually rained. That was just about all the small-talk Eilidh could stand. The weather was what it was. They could all see it and feel it. What was the point of talking about it? Keeping her dark comments to herself, she decided to leave her friends to their socialising and get on with the practical task of collecting and preparing the vine for their meal.
Chosen (Majaos Book 1) Page 3