Temple of the Traveler: Empress of Dreams

by Scott Rhine

  “So much for chatting at the gangplank,” muttered Tashi, running for the ship as fast as he could. Using stacked boxes on the docks as a ramp, he launched himself through the air to the center of the tiny ship. When his feet struck the thin cover of the cargo hold, he splintered it and kept going through.

  “Why do we even plan?” asked Pinetto, mustering his energy reserves. He could hear the cat laughing uproariously.

  “What the hells was that?” asked the ship’s captain, stooping over the new hole in his deck. The other two sailors leaned over the splintered hole as well.

  Sarajah took advantage of the commotion. Reaching down, she smacked one sailor’s skull into the other. While they were dazed, she made knife-handed thrusts into their necks and chests.

  When he heard the thump, the captain looked up. His eyes grew wide. By the torchlight, he could see her grin. He moaned with fear and drew in a breath to scream. Pinetto’s dart hit him in the midsection and the weapon’s explosion blew him over the rail into the sea.

  Enjoying himself, Bagierog sliced through the ropes binding the ship. Karl and Erik ran onboard before alarm gongs could sound. In the darkness, Tashi tried to jump out of the hold through the hole he’d created. He missed the hole, making a loud thump.

  The wizard heard the large cat creature say, “I’m going to pee myself.” However, he couldn’t respond because he had to use his bolo to disable a patrolman who came to investigate the commotion.

  On the second attempt, Tashi landed on the deck. Head down, Tashi shuffled over to Sarajah to ask, “Anything else I can do?”

  “Anchor,” said Sarajah, dragging the unconscious bodies to the side of the ship one at a time. He obeyed, trying to make up time and burn off the embarrassment by hauling the chain up as fast as possible.

  Pinetto climbed a rope on the side to reach the deck. As the northern men unfurled the sails, he barked, “Get those flags up. We don’t want to find out what spell has wrecked the ships.”

  “You woke half the town,” Tashi complained to the wizard.

  “To save your girlfriend . . . who did the rest of the fighting. I forgot that this is another three-way border and overcharged a little. What was your excuse? You washed your feet this morning and can’t do a thing with them? Great distraction.”

  Pinetto sighted the Compass Star with his sextant. By then, Karl was in the wheelhouse steering out to sea. “Keep her on that heading,” he pointed. “Straight to Center. I’ll see if I can find a decent chart. I’ve never been in the Deep before.”

  The wizard ran to the wheelhouse and suddenly ended up flat on his back, choking. Backpedalling on his behind, he crawled outside. Everything was normal again. He took a slow step forward, and his cloak billowed out behind, as if in a strong breeze. After another step, he felt the tug backward on his neck again.

  Pinetto hissed. “Sarajah, can you get me the quill off that desk?”

  “Why, is your arm broken?”

  “Please.”

  She sighed and brought him the writing implement. He reached his right arm into the room to accept it. The barrier was only for him, but only part of him? It resisted more the deeper into the room he went. Seeing nothing on the floor or ceiling, he backed up and stood on his tiptoes to check out the roof. There was a military-grade ward circle on a metal plate.

  Experimenting, he backed into the room. No choking, but the repulsion bounced him back to the seeress.

  “Are you asking me to dance?” she asked dryly.

  “No,” Pinetto said, smiling. “But I think I just made one of the biggest magical discoveries of all time. Watch this.” He took off his cloak, balled it up, and threw it as hard as he could at Karl in the center of the warded region. The fabric shot back as if kicked by a giant, unfolding as it went. “Yes!” he said, jumping up to celebrate.

  Turning to watch his juvenile antics, she didn’t see the fast-moving clothing and got swept off her feet. She shrieked and Tashi came running.

  Pinetto told him, “Grab my cloak. Don’t let it near the wheelhouse.”

  “Sure,” Tashi said, looking to the seeress for explanation.

  After rolling to her feet, she shrugged. “It seems to have a life of its own.”

  As Pinetto rummaged through the desk area, he said, “I put a new, super-charged, portable ward on my cloak to repel spirits.”

  Sarajah raised an eyebrow and took the cloak from Tashi to examine it. “You wove all the anchor points with sesterina and put wizard glass beads in the center of each.”

  “That helps prevent the energy decay that wood bases have. A metal resonator maintains the loop longer, which is why the navy used this metal plate. The glass core holds a higher initial charge.” The wizard opened a leather courier pouch and dumped the contents onto the desk.

  “It has six points in the circle instead of the traditional three and a pink lens in the center. Each point is a swirl representing interlocking male and female symbols. The pattern within a pattern forms a reinforcing, defensive matrix of positive, feminocentric, creationistic energies that—”

  Tashi nodded. “Yeah, the sex magic. Heh. Genius. You never take that thing off, even to sleep. It must be charged enough to—”

  “I-i-ck!” Sarajah handed the cloak back to Tashi immediately. “How does this make the cloak fly?”

  “I think my new creationist wards and traditional pain and death wards repel each other,” Pinetto said, unfolding a chart.

  Tashi wadded up the cloak and tossed it toward the pattern center harder than Pinetto ever could.

  Sarajah dove out of the way as the clothing catapulted back almost too fast to see. Tashi had to chase the cloak down as it almost fluttered off the stern of the ship. “Would you two stop?”

  Pinetto shushed her as he read the packet of orders included in the pouch.

  “I’m going to smack him,” she hissed to Tashi when he returned.

  “You have to admit, he does design some pretty great devices,” Tashi whispered. Unfurling the cloak, he played with it like a kite near the boundary region.

  “Does any ward repel any other ward?” she wondered.

  “No one’s ever made them portable and strong enough to try. My guess is any wizard smart enough to make one can’t get a woman to have sex with him.”

  She snorted at the theory.

  Tashi wouldn’t stop playing with the cloak. “I want a hammer with one of these wards.”

  “What’s the point? It would never hit the wizard in the middle.”

  Pinetto interrupted. “You need to see this.”

  “You found the maps?” she asked.

  “Charts. Yes. According to this, Muro is almost twenty hours away on this bearing. We could arrive there at about two hours till sunset. Center is almost that far again. The routes to both are clearly marked.”

  “Great. Between the three sailors here, we can take four-hour shifts and be there in two days,” she decided.

  “Not so great. This pouch is a delivery for General Navara—invasion plans for Center. The message is addressed to his supply headquarters . . . in Muro.”

  Tashi swore. “Out of one war zone and into another.”

  “I don’t know how many islands have been taken already, so we can’t risk being seen by any of them. We’ll have to stay about twenty-six miles away from any other island until we get there.”

  Karl shook his head. “That makes navigation doubly difficult. Not only do we have to steer without landmarks, but the farther we get from land, the riskier it gets.”

  Outside once more, Pinetto said, “I see the Compass Star clearly and can tell you the angle. Even with my eyes closed, I can feel the power from the triple border where the kingdoms cross. We won’t get lost.”

  She jerked the cloak from Tashi’s hands and handed it back to the wizard.

  Tashi asked, “What do I do now?”

  “Crawl below and hide. I’d recommend somewhere that reeks.”

  “Why? Are you that angry?”<
br />
  “No, but my mother is. That’s her image on the banner.”

  Tashi uttered a scatological term.

  “A good idea. She really hates you, and her sense of smell is incredible. The feces might help mask your identity if she gets that close.”

  “What if you need help?” Tashi asked.

  “I’ll ring the bell. If I see the dragon, I’ll run over what’s left of the cargo area lid. It should make enough noise to warn you away.”

  “How long do I need to hide?”

  “Mother doesn’t like daylight, but I wouldn’t take chances. I don’t know how long the trip takes. I’ve never been at sea before.”

  ****

  They let Tashi risk a shift around noon. He took two full bits to crawl out of his hiding place and climb onto the deck. He got to eat at the start of his shift and again at the end. No one wanted to eat beside him because of the stench.

  Near sundown, as they were skirting outlying islands, Sarajah and Erik rested in the wheelhouse until they neared the islands. A nervous Pinetto called everyone but Tashi up on deck. “Could you all come out here and help me watch? I passed a wreck a few bits ago, and I don’t see any rocks on the map. Erik, less sail. We need to slow. Something’s wrong here.”

  Erik responded sluggishly. When the Mallard quieted, they could hear a faint bubbling in the water.

  “Underwater volcano?” asked Karl.

  “Did you check all the wards?” asked Sarajah, fear creeping into her tone.

  “Only the one on the port side as I climbed over and the central pattern. I didn’t check the prow or the starboard other than by the anchor. I sort of had other things to do. I just assumed that a military vessel ready to sail would be fully . . .” The sound of something wet smacking the bow silenced the wizard. His left hand began to glow. “Karl, take the wheel.”

  Erik took a harpoon from a rack. “Should I ring the bell?”

  Pinetto ran to the front of the ship, chanting. When the creature poked its head above the railing, he gave a controlled burst. It shrieked and splashed back into the water.

  “Fix that ward,” ordered Sarajah, taking out her sesterina-coated dagger.

  Two tentacles poked over the edge. The wizard flashed energy at one, but the other made it onto the deck, groping around. “Keep that thing busy, then.”

  The tentacle slithered toward Karl. “I think you should ring the bell,” he said, turning the wheel away from the beast.

  She tossed the expensive dagger and it bounced harmlessly off the rubbery arm. Then she rang the bell frantically. “Hold it off for two bits!”

  “For Legato,” Erik bellowed from the wheelhouse and charged the mysterious creature. The harpoon sliced off the barest tip of the tentacle. However, two more appendages knew exactly where to find the sailor when they squished over the edge. Erik struggled in vain as arm after arm wrapped him.

  Pinetto hung from the prow by his knees. With the repulsion of his cape, he couldn’t reach the ward to charge it, but he didn’t dare use his hands to remove his only protection.

  “What are you waiting for, witch? Hex that thing,” said Karl as it dragged Erik over the edge. They had a brief lull while the monster consumed the man.

  “That’s not a spirit!” she replied.

  “You killed all those men with your bare hands.”

  “I don’t know the pain points on . . . whatever this is.”

  “Learn fast,” said the wizard hanging from his knees, zapping anything that got close with charged coins. So much had fallen out of his pockets that he had little left to toss but a bottle of ink. “I’m running low on ammunition!”

  She grabbed the lantern and ran to the edge. Screaming an ancient tongue, she dashed the oil lamp against a nexus of tentacles. It burst, catching a small area on fire. Now she could see how huge the beast really was. After Pinetto pelted the same spot with his last explosive missile, twelve tentacles thrashed in fury.

  Tashi wasn’t going to make it in time.

  A sudden wind blew Sarajah back from the edge, knocking her onto her behind. The angry creature’s swipes missed her.

  There was a blur of motion and something plucked the giant squid out of the water, ripping it from the ship.

  “Full sail!” demanded Pinetto, clambering back to the deck.

  Karl aimed away from the squid. “Good spell.”

  “That wasn’t me!’ said the wizard, running to help raise the sails completely.

  Sarajah could hear Tashi thumping and climbing below. She thumped on the lid to the cargo hold desperately, praying he would stop.

  The squid splashed back into the sea a few beats later. Then the dragon landed on their crow’s nest. “In these waters, be safe and sail in the daylight, daughter,” whispered Serog.

  Sarajah fell on her knees and bowed before the dragoness, raising her voice so Tashi could hear. “Mother-goddess.”

  Pinetto didn’t look up but pushed Karl to his knees saying, “Oh great Nightingale.”

  The dragoness twisted her head, examining them both with a hiss of amusement. “You’re up to something. These men aren’t dressed like Sandarac’s crews.”

  A stream of urine flowed from underneath Karl onto the deck.

  “I have a writ of passage from him,” said the seeress.

  “I notice you didn’t say you showed that writ to anyone.”

  Sarajah blushed. “I was in a hurry.”

  “Why do you wear the cloak of Archanos?”

  “I’m his high priestess now, Mother. I have been granted the kingdom my sister Ashterah once held. The emperor has invited me to his coronation and promised to recognize my claim. This man is my . . . um . . .”

  “Prophet,” supplied Pinetto, prostrate and still not glancing up.

  “Blessed by Kiateros, he copies down my words and smites things that need smiting, that sort thing,” said Sarajah, praying silently that Tashi stayed put.

  “How adorable, an Imperial working for the Fallen.”

  “Is there anything you would add to the book our seeress has written about you?” Pinetto asked.

  “About me? May I see, little one?”

  Sarajah removed the Book of Dawn from her satchel and opened it to the Song of Serog.

  The dragon sighed. “Scribe, add only that the Fallen know love and faithfulness more deeply than the gods. For your service, I mark you. If anyone slays you, I will avenge you if my daughter fails to.” Serog touched the base of his neck with a claw tip.

  The wizard clamped his mouth shut at the sharp pain. Hair singed as a symbol burned there.

  Turning to Sarajah, Serog said, “You have a gift for illustrating the essence of someone.”

  “I wish only for others to know you as I do, Mother-goddess.”

  A claw raised Sarajah’s head. “As an emissary of my ally, I grant you passage wherever you go in my realm. For this book, I will grant you a boon if you answer one question honestly.”

  “I shall never lie to you.”

  “Who’s the man with the blood-sword hiding belowdecks?”

  She tried to control her breathing and not hyperventilate. “He bears the Defender of the Realm to Emperor Pagaose.”

  “And?”

  “He’s my favored, my consort-to-be. For my boon, I beg you to spare him and my pilot.”

  “Why does he hide?” asked the dragoness.

  “He’s killed scores of Sandarac’s troops to rescue me. We can’t let him be seen, but he insisted he should come along to protect me.”

  “You don’t want me to see him.”

  “I’m afraid you won’t approve of my choice.”

  “I grant any sailors who carry you free passage. This one time, that includes your favored, but in the future . . . he must ask my permission in person. A man who is worthy of you would do no less.”

  Don’t come out, Sarajah prayed, gripping the book to her chest.

  “Be well, daughter. I am proud of who you’ve become,” Serog said, then
leapt into the sky and vanished.

  “That went well,” said Pinetto, returning to the wheelhouse.

  “You’re a smooth talker under pressure,” Sarajah noted. “How did that happen?”

  “My father was a runner for the King of Zanzibos and my bride-to-be is a moody, pregnant diplomat trained to kill with a touch. Do I keep sailing Centerward?”

  Sarajah answered, “Take us to the nearest island and anchor when we leave the Deep. Serog told us only to travel in daylight in this part of the sea. She doesn’t give advice lightly.”

  Chapter 17 – Flirting with Danger

  Komiko the witch stood at the chalkboard in the classroom, lifting her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose. In her mid-twenties, she wore businesslike robes that hid her feminine shape, but her voice was a husky contralto. “Highness, you’re hopeless.”

  “He made that special ink from the eruption ash,” said Anna, trying to encourage the emperor.

  “We’ve been here three hours since dinner. I agreed to tutor him in return for the new school, but he’s horrible at lightcraft, lenscraft, navigation, wards, shade theory—”

  “Which is incorrect and I can prove it,” said Pagaose. “I passed the math parts, and I can draw the wards, just not power them.”

  “Great, ink and math, you can be an accountant.”

  “He wasn’t bad at weather prediction,” said Anna.

  “That’s just his experience as a traveler,” said the witch. “As emperor, he needs to do some kind of magic.”

  Frustrated, Anna threw her hands in the air. “He does miracles!”

  “Those are costly and not parlor tricks. It’s more accurate to say that I have the gift of making my words come to pass, but this can take time,” said Pagaose. “What about being an artificer?”

  The tall witch shook her head. “Nobody takes them seriously.”

  “Artificers made the Emperor’s Road that rings the Inner Sea, one of our civilization’s greatest achievements.”

  “The machines we had mothballed melted during the Scattering. We have drawings, but we lost the formula.”

  “We could reconstruct it from supply records.”

  “We’d have to start on a smaller scale,” Komiko advised.