Quick as a flash, Phaer drew his sword and pushed the point against Calandra's throat. Not enough to draw blood but close enough to be felt and prevent any movement.
“Phaer, what is the matter with thee, noble sir?” Hannah gasped. “Hast thou lost thy mind?” “Nothing wrong with me,” the ranger assured the Knight. “I knew Kismet wasn't wearing robes, just like I knew the guards were, in fact, one male and one female, both human. I heard their speech on the wind and heard none of the harsh, guttural, ogreish speech our priestly friend here talked about. Moreover, when we first approached Avidon, I knew the sentries at the walls were blue division, not green. That was my first deliberate mistake; my first test after my suspicions had first been aroused back in Shakaran. Tell us, Revered Daughter, how come you never heard that newspaper seller calling out the headline from just a few streets away?”
“I told you, child, I was talking with Lady Hannah and was not listening.” “I was talking to Toli at the time; I wasn't listening, either, but I still heard the words `Knights` and `truce` clearly enough. Don't bother lying anymore; I grew up around full-blooded elves and I know that my senses of sight and hearing are nothing special compared to the average elf. Yet you have now made at least five separate mistakes. Five times I have heard or seen something plainly that you could not detect at all. Give up the pretence, Calandra, and tell us: who are you? Who are you really?”
“Yes, who are you really?” Loric echoed, as he drew his blade. “I’ve been around elves a fair bit myself. I’ve lived with them, fought with them and Phaer has made some very sound points. So tell us who you are, or feel the sting of my blade. It is called Soul Crusher. I’ll let you work out why for yourself.”
“Excuse me,” Kismet interrupted, nonchalantly walking between the men and their target, causally brushing their weapons aside. “This is all ever so entertaining, but we do have rather more important things to worry about, you know. Like getting away from the gate in case somebody sees us!”
“Kismet's right,” Eilidh agreed. “We do have more important things to worry about. Put your sword away, both of you, and let’s get on with the rescue.”
Phaer was incensed. “But she's not who she appears to be!” he protested. Eilidh rounded on him, her eyes flashi ng. “Are you?” she shot back. “Am I? Is he?” she nodded towards Kismet. “What about Bunny or Rochelle or Loric or any of us? I accept you all at face value and you accept me. Some of us have secrets; things we don't want to share and I respect that. As far as I'm concerned, all those I work with are entitled to their secrets, so long as they don't put us in danger or jeopardise our quest. Calandra hasn't done that. So what if we can't rely on her elven senses? I'm happy to rely on yours, Phaer. Now put the sword down and let’s go. Unless you'd rather we all have a major get-to-knowyou session, in which case you can go first.”
Phaer reluctantly sheathed his weapon. “Alright, I guess if you're not bothered, you’re the leader so it's up to you.”
Loric also sheathed his weapon, though he was still smouldering silently.
Calandra, who had remained calm and silent throughout the confrontation, offered Eilidh a small smile and a nod by way of thanks.
“I say, well done! I'm delighted that you've sorted that out, O Esteemed Leader,” Kismet told Eilidh. “Now follow me. There's something you're going to want to see.”
* * * * *
Along the way, Toli casually asked Kismet about his ability to change into anything at will.
“There's a bit of a story attached to that,” he said.
“Great, I love stories!”
So the pair dropped to the back of the group and Kismet began his tale. “It all began when I was a child. I was out with my brother, Nat. Or was it Nate? No, it was definitely Nat. Like all children, we had heard many ghastly stories about children being taken away by the Enforcers, never to be seen again.”
“Those are just stories told by parents to frighten kids into behaving themselves,” Toli objected. “Well we were children and we were frightened. Those stories were real enough to our childish imaginations. One day, though, it actually happened - we really were chased by a pair of Enforcers. So, not wanting to `disappear`, we ran into the wilderness, hoping to escape. Obviously, though, it takes a great deal more than a few trees to fool the Enforcers! After we had been pursued for some time we split up. It seemed the Enforcers weren’t interested in Nat because they all kept chasing me. I took a wrong turn and found myself at a dead end. I stood, waiting for the inevitable capture and I remember thinking to myself, `If only I were a rock; they'd never find me then!` Then the Enforcers appeared, and that's when I saw they weren't Enforcers at all. They were creatures I'd never seen before or since until recently - they were chaos monsters. Anyway, to my surprise, they couldn’t see me, or at least they paid me about the same attention as any other boulder. After that I practised, and soon found I could change myself into anything, without even thinking about it!”
“And your brother?” Rochelle asked.
“Oh, he was fine. Like I say, they weren’t interested in him. Haven’t seen him for ages but you know how it is – we’re both busy. He’s a very important man, you know.”
“Really? What’s he doing?”
Kismet seemed to concentrate hard for a moment before answering. “Do you know...It’s completely gone out of my head! Don’t you just hate it when that happens?” On the face of it, Kismet’s story was nonsense, but once again Eilidh couldn't help the feeling that if one could only pick through it, there was a grain of truth to be found. A truth so profound that it had to be hidden to shield the world from its full impact. It was a strange notion, but without knowing exactly why, Eilidh believed it.
The party rounded a natural sharp bend in the path they were following and were faced with an opening in one of Avidon's many mountains. If it had a name, none of the companions knew what it was.
Being at the rear of the group, little Toli couldn'tsee why everyone had stopped. “What is it?” she asked, straining to see.
“A tunnel,” Eilidh answered.
“A dark and mysterious tunnel?”
“Absolutely.”
“Leading to unknown dangers?”
“Probably.”
“Lets you in but doesn't let you out?”
“Possibly.”
“Fantastic! What are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Eilidh couldn't help but smile at her friend's enthusiasm and while she didn't exactly share it, there was no other choice. The tunnel was indeed dark and mysterious, and Granite led the way - his dwarven eyes were used to this kind of environment, which was preferable to torches or magical light that might attract attention. Also in their favour was the fact that although the tunnel wound its way through the mountain in all directions, there were no major side-tunnels, leaving them but one way to go. The tunnel had clearly been carved with magic, but either the magician was drunk, suffered from an irrational fear of straight lines, or was simply in no hurry to reach the other side. The companions did reach the other side eventually, and found that they were shielded from view of the gate by the mountain. Calandra prayed for illumination, so everyone could see properly once more.
As the companions walked along through the valley between the mountains, everyone felt comfortable enough to engage in small-talk in a normal voice level. Everyone, that is, except Eilidh, who continued to almost religiously resist all attempts by the others to draw her in. She was surprised to note that Phaer spent a good portion of the journey just behind on her shoulder, but he respected her desire for silence. To him it was not so strange. Elves tended towards a greater economy with words than humans. Phaer himself mostly used small talk to put others at ease and keep them away from things he did not wish to discuss.
A mile or so further on, as the companions reached an old town square, the conversation suddenly halted as the sight before them left them awestruck. A column of multi-coloured light whirled and spun more than twenty feet into the air before spill
ing out at the top and falling back down to the ground, rivers of light flowing through it. Shimmering golds and silvers danced among blues and reds, greens and purples, along with soft beige and browns, white and black adding contrast. It was a stunning sight that took everyone's breath away.
Phaer broke the silence. “This must be the Great Fountain of Light,” he said. “It's certainly wellnamed.”
Granite rounded on him and demanded, “Ye can see that, lad?”
“Of course I can.”
“What do ya see, lad? Describe it.”
The half-elf did just that.
“And ye all see the same thing?” the dwarf persisted.
“Of course we do,” Hannah affirmed. “What is it that thou art driving at, sir dwarf? Thou doth seem most unusually distressed by this sightof natural beauty before us.”
“Yer damn right I'm distressed! You shouldnae be able tae see it at all. None of yeh, apart from Eilidh and me. Especially not Phaer, or you, Hannah!”
“Eilidh,” Phaer prompted, “do you have any idea what he's talking about?” “Yes I do, actually, and he's right: you shouldn't be able to see it. Let me try to explain. What you see before you now is how Catalysts see the world all the time. Every living creature - every plant and animal, every sentient being, every demon, orc, vampire and supernatural creature – to my eyes, all life gives off a colourful pattern of light. It is the natural reaction of Life magic with the air of the material world. Only inanimate objects and magically Dead people like yourself give off no light.”
“I’ve heard something like this before,” Phaer said.
“Good. Now, under normal conditions, not even the most powerful mages can see this aura; only those born to the Secret of Life, only Catalysts like Granite and me.” “Yet we can all see this Fountain of Light,” Phaer mused. “In fact,” Rochelle put in, “we are such a diverse, almost representative group, that it makes sense to assume anybody and everybody could see it. That's got the Hand of Darkness scared, and that's why this place is forbidden.”
“Actually, it’s more than that,” Kismet said. “You see, there have been recorded instances when mages of other Secrets have seen the light of Life.” “That's right,” Eilidh confirmed. “I read about that at the Church and I had intended to research the issue. As I understand it, it's usually the most powerfully Life Gifted mages who see the light, but noone is sure exactly why.”
“It's a simple question of purity,” Kismet offered, offhand, as if it were a fact so obvious it should be common knowledge.
“That was my guess,” Eilidh nodded in agreement. “I don't know why exactly; it just seemed to make sense.” “Quite right, my dear. At normal purity levels only Catalysts can see Life because they are naturally more sensitive to its presence and behaviour. They have to be; otherwise they wouldn't be Catalysts. Now, think of the flow of Life as being like the flow of water; it flows in all dimensions instead of just three, but it's a good enough analogy otherwise.”
“All dimensions? How many dimensions are there?” Rochelle wondered. “Oh, ten or eleven, depending on who you listen to. But never mind that. Just think of water. It doesn't all flow at a constant speed or direction. Sometimes the same bit of water can get caught up in one place.”
“Like an eddy,” Phaer contributed, pulling on his knowledge of the natural world. If magic had analogy in nature, maybe it wasn't so alien after all. “Exactly,” Kismet agreed. “Now, Life gets caught up in eddies, too, but in this case, it attracts more Life to itself, increasing its purity. When the purity reaches a certain level, it becomes visible to powerful Life Gifted mages of other Secrets. As it grows purer still, less powerful mages, including those with just Life Calling, can see it, too, and so on.”
Phaer surprised himself at how easily he grasped the concept. “So what you're saying is, there comes a point where the Life Eddy is so pure, so concentrated that it's clearly visible to everyone, even if you're Magically Dead like me.”
“This highly concentrated Life,” Callie put in. “Is it dangerous?”
"Don't see why it would be," Granite said. "As long as nobody stirs it up and energises it too much, it should be safe enough." Rochelle tended to agree. "The flow of Life is all around us," she reminded the cleric. "The fact that we're privileged enough to see it like Catalysts do changes nothing. What do you think, Kismet?"
“Under normal circumstances, you're right," he agreed, "but in the wrong hands it could be very dangerous indeed,” Kismet agreed. “If a mage could figure out how to tap into the power of this Fountain, they would be the most powerful mage alive. They could even have power to rival the Ancients. That's why the Hand of Darkness keeps it guarded, albeit not very well."
"Security in this city is based mostly on fear and intimidation," Loric told them.
"Aye," Granite agreed. "That's why nobody would talk about the Fountain, even to me."
"The trouble is," Rochelle added, "the Hand doesn't even trust its own guards not to stick their fingers in the proverbial pie."
Bunny nodded, understanding. "The guards are there to watch each other more than keep people out. That made it easy for me to entice both of them away at the same time.”
Eilidh began walking forward as her mind latched onto something new. “The Well of Life – the source of all magic it must be like one of these Life Eddies!”
“What a remarkable conclusion,” Kismet noted, noncommittally.
“It must dwarf this one -no offence, Granite.”
“None taken, lassie. I'm as fascinated as ye are yerself.” “There's still more to it, though,” Kismet said. “As powerful as this Fountain would potentially be if someone tapped into it, it would only last so long before it was used up, or rather returned to the natural Life flow of the world.”
“But if someone were to locate and control the Well of Life,” Eilidh took up his line of thought, “that source would not only be far more powerful but also inexhaustible, in theory at least.”
“If this Fountain looks so beautiful,” Bunny observed, “the Well of Life must be incredible!”
“Actually, no,” Rochelle disagreed. “I'm pretty sure that the Well of Life would be invisible even to a Life Gifted Catalyst, even to the Lord High Cardinal himself.”
“What?” everyone demanded at once. Even Eilidh was not following this peculiar twist of logic. “No, really, it's true,” the druid insisted. “Think about it: what we're basically seeing here is the interaction of Life and air. It's the mixture of the two that makes the light. If it's absolutely pure air with no Life, it's invisible, so surely if it's absolutely pure Life with no air, that must be invisible, too. No air, no interaction, no light," she concluded, counting the points off on her fingers for emphasis.
“You've got it right,” Kismet said with a hint of pride. “All of it.” That's when he suddenly noticed Eilidh wasn't standing with him anymore. She was walking slowly forwards, getting ever closer to the Fountain. She told herself her it was her natural curiosity and researcher's mind drawing her in, but a small part of her suspected it might be something more.
“Eilidh!” Kismet cried out, panic in his voice. “Get away from there now!” The Catalyst laughed off the warning. “Oh it's alright, Kismet! It's not as if it's going to reach out and grab me, is it?” At that very moment, the Great Fountain of Light did exactly that. A stream of Life shot out like a tentacle and grabbed her. Kismet ran forward and tried to pull her clear, but Eilidh was oblivious to any danger. With a serene smile and glazed eyes, she intoned, “It's so beautiful. It's calling to me. It wants to know me,” she breathed. “All of me.”
“All of you?” Kismet asked quietly, motioning for the others to stay back. “Are you sure that's a good idea? What about your secrets? All the things you don't want your friends to know. You’ve never had friends before, have you? Do you want to risk losing them now? What about that, Eilidh Hagram?”
The Catalyst suddenly snapped out of her trance, and gasped, “Kismet pull me out!
Get me free! Don't let it get me!” She felt a new power then. She felt the power of the Fountain and something else she didn't recognise. It was magic, but unlike any she had ever encountered before. A magic of an older, more Ancient order.
No , she corrected herself, not `Ancient`. That word meant something quite specific in Mythallen - the time when humans first arrived. This felt older than that, much older. More like - she searched for the right word in her mind - Primal... Primeval... Primordial. What its source could be, she had no idea, but whatever it was seemed to make the Fountain's tentacle recoil. But that was not the end of the danger. The colours swirled rapidly and a large section began to separate itself from the main column. It shaped itself into a ten-foot tall, roughly humanoid shape. It let out a load roar-shriek and advanced on the party. Somehow, Eilidh instinctively understood that it had reached out to her in curiosity, seeking to understand her existence. Whatever it had learned, it had tried to copy and it didn't seem to like her very much.
No change there, then, she reflected, sullenly.
Phaer moved close to Eilidh and quipped, “What is it with you and things with tentacles that want to grab you and eat you?”
Eilidh flashed him a smile, understanding that this was the half-elf's way of asking if she was alright. As the magical creature pulled itself free from the Life Eddy that had spawned it, the flow of the Fountain changed, triggering a magical shield that grew to form an enormous dome, cutting off the way back into the city. Looking around frantically, the companions couldn't see any other way out.
They were trapped.
Chapter 13
With typical Knightly disregard for her own safety, Lady Hannah moved to intercept the creature, Loric a step behind, but Kismet pulled them both back with a strength that surprised them. “Stay back! Don't go near it, any of you! No weapon you possess will be effective against it and you'll just make things worse!”
“Then what can we do?” Hannah asked.
“Well, if my guess is right, it won't be able to stray very far from its source.”
Chosen (Majaos Book 1) Page 15