Chosen (Majaos Book 1)

by Gary Stringer

  “I'm drained, too,” Rochelle reported. Eilidh and Granite could Grant no more Life, which left only Toli and Bunny with a few Quick Fix spells. It was little more than First Aid, something any mage could do, but it might just stop the bleeding and dull the pain. Using up all the last of their Life Store would leave them quite vulnerable in this dark place, but it couldn’t be helped.

  Loric insisted he'd be fine so long as he could go and rest for a while. He decided to go to a local lake to cool off. “That is indeed a sound tactical plan,” Lady Hannah pointed out. “Doubtless there are those in this city who wouldst seek to take advantage of this opportunity to make a trophy of our winged friend whilst in his weakened state.”

  Loric invited Bunny to see the world from his perspective for a while.

  “Sure, I’ll go with you.” Bunny agreed. “I could use a bath myself. As for the rest of you… Rochelle, do you know the Druid chapel on Foxhole Lane?”

  “I know it well.”

  “Good, then that seems like a sensible place drop off the kids. We’ll meet up with you there in the morning.”

  Eilidh hated having to delay their quest to find Princess Mystaya, but the situation was what it was and wishing wasn’t going to change it. Bunny’s plan was sound so it made no sense to argue. Bunny climbed onto Loric’s broad dragon back. She could feel his body heat, radiating from his dark scales, and the unnatural heat from his burns, but before she knew it they had taken flight and the rush of air began to assist the cooling process. They were soon well under way to Loric's favourite spot.

  As they flew, Bunny could tell that Loric was going slow. Due to his injuries or just to give her a safe and gentle ride, she wasn’t sure. Then her nose picked up on something - Dragon blood. The large gash on his back had opened up again close to the base of his long, sinuous neck.

  Hmmmmm, she thought. Dragon blood…how exotic! She firmly snapped herself out of that feeling, regaining control. She ripped a large piece of cloth out of the skirt of her green dress and pressed it against the wound. She could feel the dragon's pulse quicken in response to her touch - the response was no different in dragons than it was in the humans or elves she’d been with. She found that fascinating.

  “I couldn't help noticing your change of outfit,” Loric remarked, conversationally.

  “It only took me a second to borrow it – I’ve inherited some vampire speed from my mother – and there was nobody around in the sewers to object to me changing on the run. I thought the kids would be more likely to trust a servant girl than a scarlet woman. It didn't slow me down or put the kids in any danger, I assure you.”

  “Oh, that wasn't an accusation. I just think green suits you.”

  “And now I've gone and ruined it,” she pouted.

  “No point taking it back then, I suppose.”

  “Which means I technically stole it.”

  “All in a good cause, though.” Bunny sighed, regretfully. “The girl was such a helpful soul as well. She didn't speak a single word of objection. OK, I may have taken the precaution of gagging her, but even if I hadn't, I'm sure she would have given me her dress, had she known the situation. After all, lives were at stake and I didn’t have time for a long, difficult conversation.”

  “You made the right decision,” Loric agreed, enjoying Bunny's free-flowing banter.

  “I knew you’d see it my way. Actually, now that I think about it, the dress may not be a total loss. With a needle and thread I could take the skirt up, make it into a mini. What do you think?”

  “I think I'd like to see that.”

  “In that case,” she said, tearing off another strip, “I suggest you stop bleeding so much, otherwise there won't be enough material left to work with.”

  “I'll do my best,” he promised.

  “Good. A girl can't wear her skirt too short you know; it gets her a reputation.”

  “Quite cold, too, I'd imagine. Especially up here in Avidon’s mountains.” “Oh, that doesn't necessarily have to be a problem. There are always ways t o warm up, some of them quite enjoyable, as a matter of fact.” Bunny could sense the dragon responding to her and she briefly wondered what it might be like to feel such emotions: Affection...real affection…even love. But as she had told the Catalyst, `love requires a soul`. No, she was incapable of such feelings. Her creator, her father, hadn’t built that into her design – it wasn’t the point of his research and he was always quite single minded about his work. There were times when she could almost believe...almost feel...but no, all she could do was simulate them, physically. And the dragon was just about the only race she had never...`simulated` with.

  At that moment, Loric descended into a soft and gentle landing. When Bunny dismounted, he turned himself into his human form. She ran hungry eyes seductively over his frame. He was toned and well built, with large and powerful arms that were capable of crushing a man's body, yet equally capable of such gentleness. Yes, an encounter with this individual could be very interesting indeed.

  “Well,” she remarked. “I've had men between my legs before, but never quite like that. Thanks for the ride.” The way Loric smiled, she could see that pursuing this would have to wait. He was at the end of his strength. She cast a Quick Fix spell just to keep him conscious, and then set about bathing his wounds.

  At last, Loric reverted to his natural form and retreated into a healing sleep. Bunny sat down a short distance away where she lit a small fire and used the last of her available Life Store to conjure an illusory copy of herself...mostly for someone to talk to, not that she expected to get much back.

  “My favourite spell,” she said to herself, satisfied.

  “When you’re a sorceress, who needs mirrors?” Her copy quipped.

  Bunny eyed her copy up and down. Her copies had never been this responsive before. She was having a good day. Pulling a face, she said, “Considering I’m such a mess, I’m not sure that’s a good thing right now. In fact I’d better go clean myself up.” And with that, she turned to walk away. “Don’t go anywhere, will you?”

  The copy rolled her eyes, “I’m a construct of magic, not a real person. Where do think I’m going to go – the nearest tavern for a drink? Pick up some bloke and let him buy me a drink? A drink and a show? Champagne, a show and a sha-”

  “—Look, I’m not doing that anymore, OK?” the real Bunny snapped, cutting off her copy and quite startling herself. Where did that suddenly come from?

  “Sex? Come off it! You were just thinking about the dragon!”

  “Thinking’s one thing,” she countered, deciding to sit back down for the moment. “Besides, I was mostly referring to the escort gig.”

  “You’re leaving Madam Donna’s? Why?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  “You think I’m a perfect copy in every detail with a complete record of your thoughts and feelings, past and present?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  The copy snorted. “You’re not that good! I can talk, I can perform simple actions, I can fight and I can...well, I can do that thing you’re apparently not going to do anymore.”

  “But if I left you with friends—“

  “You don’t have any friends.” “Yeah, but if I did and I left you with them, with people who knew me well, couldn’t you make them believe you were the real me?” “Not a chance. In fact, they wouldn’t even have to know you all that well to see right through me.” To prove her point, the copy picked up a piece of burning wood from the fire and held it close to her body which appeared slightly transparent.

  “Hey, I can see right through you!” The real Bunny observed.

  “Exactly,” said the copy, putting the branch back on the fire.

  Bunny eyed her copy suspiciously. “You’re trying to be funny, aren’t you?”

  The copy shrugged. “I get that from you.” “Well obviously, you get everything from me! But if you’re making wise -cracks, then...” she broke off, jumped up and quickly snatched up a burning branch, holding
it close to her copy who squealed and scrambled out of the way.

  “Hey, careful!” protested the copy. “Are you trying to set my world on fire or what?”

  “You’re made of magic, you can’t feel pain.”

  “No, but I can simulate it, like you simulate other things – oh sorry, I mean the way you used to simulate things.”

  “I don’t believe it! My magical copy is winding me up!”

  “Well you know what you always say: if there’s one thing you can do...”

  “...It’s wind people up!” finished the sorceress. “And you got me good and proper.” She carefully moved the flaming torch closer once more. “You look solid enough now, though.”

  “Oh yeah, so I am,” the copy agreed, seemingly genuinely surprised and interested.

  “So were you putting on the transparency thing for effect or what?”

  “No, of course not...at least, I didn’t think I was.”

  “And you certainly sound like me.”

  “A little less annoying, I’d say.”

  Bunny chose to ignore that. “Are you sure you couldn’t pass for me if I wanted you to?”

  Her copy thought about that for a moment. “Maybe I’m more real than I gave myself credit for.”

  “Maybe I’m just a better sorceress than you gave me credit for.”

  “Or a better person.” “What does that mean?”

  “Well, maybe I’m not just a copy. Maybe I’m an image of how you see yourself.”

  “How very metaphysical!”

  “Yeah, but think about it: If I’m an image of you and I’m more real than I thought, then maybe...”

  “Maybe I’m more real than I thought? Father always insisted otherwise and as much as I objected, I guess part of me always believed him.”

  “You believed people would see right through you if they got too close. See you weren’t real. A fake person. A copy.” “But maybe that’s wrong,” the real Bunny considered. “Maybe I really can be more than I was made to be. Not fake, not an illusion, not a copy, not sub-life, but real. As real as humans and elves. Real as Eilidh or Phaer, or that great hulking dragon over there.”

  “That’s a lot of maybes,” the copy pointed out. “Question is: do you really believe it?”

  Sitting back down, Bunny took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. But maybe I have a chance to find out now.”

  “That’s another maybe,” said the copy, acidly.

  “Don’t get smart. I’m having a serious philosophical conversation here.”

  “With yourself,” her copy pointed out.

  “With a copy of myself,” Bunny corrected. “A copy I created with my magic,” she marvelled. “Look at you: you’re as much me as I am!”

  “Damn I’m good!” They laughed together.

  After a pause, the real Bunny got up, “Well, I really think I should get cleaned up now.”

  “About time, too! The way you look reflects badly on me, you know.”

  “Very funny. OK, keep an eye on the slumbering beastie, will you?”

  “You know me – I always let sleeping dragons lie.”

  Bunny smiled. “Nice chatting. Must do it again sometime,” and with that she wandered off to have a wash.

  * * * * *

  “Do you think I should have told her?” said the copy to a nearby tree, when Bunny was well out of earshot.

  “Told her what?” asked the tree. “That she’s not quite as good as she thinks she is. That creating a fully sentient and self -aware magical construct isn’t quite within the realm of a grade three Life Gifted sorceress. That sort of thing.”

  “Egad! Certainly not!” the tree exclaimed. “Sink me, dear girl, but I’m trying to build up her selfimage here! Besides, I think she knows deep down. Her magical talent really isn’t the point. She needed someone to talk to, a way to reflect on her life.”

  “And what better way to reflect on her self-image than with a reflected image of herself,” the Bernice copy concluded.

  “Precisely.”

  “So…when she comes back...?”

  “She’ll find a simple illusory copy of herself guarding Loric over there.”

  “But I won’t be discussing the finer points of philosophy.”

  “No, I’m afraid not. Sorry.” “Blimey,” the copy remarked, as her self-awareness faded. “Talk about dumbing down!”

  Chapter 11

  Loric awoke to the smell of roast beef. As he came to, he saw a cow turning on a spit over a fire. Bunny was sitting in her underclothes, using her bare foot to keep the spit turning while she mended her green dress. She looked up as he stirred, not at all self-conscious about her near nakedness. “I thought you'd probably be hungry. A good meal will help restore your strength.”

  She stood back to give him room as he devoured the very well prepared cow. The dragon was briefly surprised to find the carcass almost completely bloodless, but then he realised why. He decided not to pass comment, however, as he suspected it might make her uncomfortable.

  “I slaved away for hours on that meal, and you wolf it down in two bites!” Bunny quipped, hands on hips in mock indignation.

  “Sorry. Thanks,” Loric replied, simply.

  “If you're feeling well enough to travel,” said the sorceress, “we should be getting back to Eilidh. I promised to take you all to the Fountain of Light and I intend to keep my promise.” Loric was briefly tempted to feign greater injury in order to spend more time alone with this unique creature, but then he remembered the kidnapped princess and anger snapped him out of his selfishness. So once they had erased all signs of their having been there, they took to the air, flying faster this time, back to the city of Avidon.

  * * * * * Eilidh's party now numbered nine, plus the Dark Knight Officer Sir Quentin Marr who had insisted that his escort duty was not finished until they were ready to enter this forbidden area wherein lay the Great Fountain of Light.

  The Catalyst looked around at those who were now her followers under her leadership, though she preferred not to dwell on that particular point. There was the dwarf Bard-Catalyst, Granite Longbeard. His motives were clear enough: personal gain. That didn't bother the young woman at all. It was straightforward, it was honest and he wasn’t demanding anything excessive. His solo jaunt around the City of Avidon had not proved as successful as she’d hoped. While people were ready to talk to him and let slip information on any number of things, on this particular issue, the grip of the Hand was too tight. That information had been provided by this Sumorityl vampire who called herself Bunny.

  Bunny was something of an enigma. Searching for redemption and recognition, and it seemed none too fussy about how she achieved her aims. No, Eilidh reprimanded herself. That isn't fair. Bunny had done what she had to do to survive and while some of it made the Catalyst slightly uncomfortable, she wasn’t about to tell her how she should live her life. So the Sumorityl had made some questionable decisions – who hadn’t? Eilidh made no claim to perfection.

  The Church had always taught her that Sumorityl were wrong and while Bunn y’s creation might not have violated the letter of the law, it had certainly broken its spirit. But did that automatically mean Bunny had no right to live? OK, she was unnatural, artificial, but so what? Druids and Clerics practised all kinds of magic that assisted with pregnancies that would otherwise never happen, and births that would otherwise go horribly wrong if left to nature. Some non-mages were even using Techmagic devices to aid fertility and monitor developing foetuses in the womb. Wasn’t that `unnatural`?

  There were three principal reasons why the mages of old had outlawed life creation magic: First, no healthy creatures had ever been produced. They were always twisted, bloated monstrosities that lived out their brief existences in constant pain with no reward but the peace of death and oblivion.

  Second, as the body became Sumorityl, the soul became twisted into Helyxshada, or simply `Shades` - probably the most dangerous and frightening creatures in the wo
rld. Pools of liquid darkness. A kind of void creature existing on the border between life and death that could never truly die or truly live. Anyone who had even the briefest of physical contact with a Shade became a Shade themselves. Thankfully, they were always tethered to the place they were created. If that were ever to change, chaos monsters would seem like puppy dogs and kitty cats in comparison.

  The Third reason was simply to appease the Clerics who believed the creation of life was the business of gods, not mortals. Bunny certainly wiped out the first argument. She was fit, healthy and stunningly beautiful, with a sharp wit and intelligent mind. The second reason was also null and void. Since Bunny had been created from a vampire, there was no soul to worry about, and Eilidh was not sorry that there were a few less vampires in the world thanks to the wizard that Bunny called `father`. As for the third, Eilidh dismissed that completely. Clerics were entitled to their beliefs, but they had no right to prevent magical progress. Her own red division would probably support this man's ideas and call for a recognised legal distinction for Bunny and any like her. The black mages would see power in it and even the white mages might be persuaded.

  As Eilidh watched, Bunny was laughing and joking, arm in arm with Loric who had quickly warmed to her charms. That brought her to consider the obsidian dragon for a moment. He portrayed himself as a black dragon who held a certain fame, even infamy, in Avidon. A fierce, confident mercenary with a love of mortal children in need. They had met earlier, she reminded herself, on the road to Shakaran. The resulting misunderstanding was dangerous, but soon resolved without any real harm having been done. In a way, he was the reason they were here to rescue Princess Mystaya. If that herd of centaurs hadn't attacked Loric, if he hadn't crash-landed, if that mysterious glade had not been there with its magical barrier and if Prince Garald had not been investigating at that precise moment, then they wouldn't have met up again here. If, if and if...there was something a bit too neat about that set of coincidences for her tastes. Eilidh always considered the notion `I don't believe in coincidences` to be utter nonsense. Coincidences happened all the time, but she did not always trust coincidences, and this one made her suspicious.