The Archmage unbound m-3

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The Archmage unbound m-3 Page 25

by Michael G. Manning


  I nodded. “So how do I undo this?”

  “Idiot,” she said suddenly. “To think you would do so much yet be unable to manage the most fundamental part of shape shifting.”

  “I haven’t had the most communicative teachers,” I replied sarcastically.

  “Close your eyes and envisage yourself as you were before,” she replied, not deigning to respond to my remark. “Block everything out but your personal self, cut your ties to everything else. You must not think of anything but your body, and it must be the body you remember. Listen to the substance of your current self and coax it into becoming the self you remember.”

  I thought about what she said for a moment before speaking. “Can I change anything?”

  “What do you mean?” she said with a frown.

  “I had a chipped tooth,” I said by way of example, “could I reimagine myself with a whole tooth?”

  “You occupy the body of a giant, composed of rock and magma, and you want to know if you can rebuild yourself without a chip in your tooth?” Her expression was less than sympathetic.

  “Yes.”

  She stared at me for a long moment, pondering before she spoke, “Yes you could rebuild your body with a perfect tooth; however such a thing would be risky. You must remember your body, not just mentally, but viscerally. If you make a mistake you could die. Trying to alter your remembrance during the process could produce a tragic failure.”

  I clenched my granite jaw, “I just discovered my wife is dead and my best friend along with her, I don’t really give a damn if I fail.” With those words I closed my eyes and tried to do as she had said, imagining myself as I had been. At first nothing happened, until I listened to my body. Once I had its voice in my mind I began to change it. It was a shocking realization, I was a rocky giant because my body’s song said I was, and by simply changing its reality, I became the flesh and blood human I remembered.

  When I opened my eyes again I was human, though my tooth was no longer chipped. I smiled at that thought. I also now knew how fine the line between reality and illusion was. My body was in some fundamental way a product of my ‘vision’. If I changed the way I thought of it, it would change in response.

  It occurred to me that I should test my theory. I closed my eyes again, but Moira’s voice broke my concentration, “Don’t,” she said.

  “Don’t what?” I asked.

  “Don’t try that… you haven’t learned enough yet. Shape shifting is in some ways the simplest of the arts but it is also fraught with the most dangers. The only thing you should attempt until you’ve had at least some basic advice is what you just did, returning to your proper form,” she answered.

  “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  “I have been acting as your miellte, since you badly need one. I am ‘listening’ to you, as best I can,” she responded.

  “You can see my thoughts?” I asked curiously, and perhaps secretly a bit alarmed.

  She smiled, “Not exactly. I can anticipate your actions and feel some of your emotions, but I don’t know exactly what you are thinking.”

  For some reason that was the point when my normal human emotions kicked in again, while I had been in the form of an earthen giant I had felt only anger, the emotion I had been feeling when I changed. Now that I was flesh and blood again my normal ‘range’ seemed to be restored and my grief came back to me, washing over me like a river of sadness. “So you can feel my emotions now then?” I said in a voice devoid of the emotion I was feeling.

  Though she was made of earth Moira’s features were as finely done as any mortal’s, her eyes revealed a deep sympathy within them. “Yes, I can feel your sorrow. I have known times such as these myself.”

  “But you do not hear the question in my heart?”

  “No,” she answered.

  “Today I have seen the power I possess. A power so great it could destroy everything, yet I was unable to protect those most dear to me. I want to know why. Why?” As I asked the question I felt my anger returning, but I didn’t allow it to overwhelm me this time.

  Moira’s expression changed as I spoke, becoming more stern. “Listen to me son of Illeniel, and I will tell you what I learned at great cost, once, long ago, ages before you were born. The ability to destroy is the least form of power, though it is the first form that any power will take. Even an infant is able to destroy things, weak though it may be. Using your talent to build, to create, or to restore, those are the greater forms of power; and those forms require time and cultivation to mature.”

  I listened carefully, despite my anger and sorrow, even then my mind was working, looking ahead. “What of the power to protect?” I asked.

  She closed her eyes. “That is an illusion. There is no power to protect, only to destroy and create anew. Protection is a result of the mind and clever use of power to manipulate the actions of those that would harm you, but it is not a result of power itself.”

  “That makes no sense. If you try to destroy something, or someone, and I prevent you I have exercised my power to protect.”

  “How would you prevent me?” she replied. “You would either destroy me, or use the threat of destruction to alter my actions. The protection of whomever or whatever is a secondary result, not a primary result of power. Power only creates or destroys.”

  I didn’t want to agree with her, but I couldn’t see the flaw in her reasoning. Tired, I decided to put the discussion aside for another day. “I don’t like your answer, but I’m too worn to debate it.”

  She continued, “All that belies another point you must be aware of…”

  “What’s that?”

  “As I told you before, an archmage does not possess power, he ‘becomes’ it. The power you use is not your own, you merely borrow it, and if you use too much it will own you. Remember that.”

  I gritted my teeth but said nothing. I knew very well what she meant but I was convinced there was more to it than that. At every turn I was being told that all power had a price, that the power I used would cost me my very life if I tried to use the amount I needed to stop a being such as Mal’goroth, or the shining gods. Yet I could see that there were many unknowns in this game, even Moira didn’t understand the full limitations, or possibilities of an archmage’s ability. If she did she would already understand what had just happened to me, and she had already admitted to some uncertainty there. And I am not just an archmage, I thought to myself. I possessed power in my own right, as a wizard, though it might pale before some of the foes arrayed against me.

  Beyond that I knew that the power of the mind might provide answers that no amount of brute force could. Moira underestimated the importance of intelligence that I was sure of, because all of her training taught her that the greater uses of an archmage’s power would obliterate his (or her) mind or ability to think. The natural progression of that train of thought was that all power, beyond a certain point, would render meaningless an individual’s power of thought or personal will.

  I refused to accept that notion. I knew from my time in the smithy that sometimes small applications of force could have great effects. Skillful use of power magnifies what is possible. I turned my back on Moira and began walking back toward Lancaster. “You may go for now Moira,” I said curtly. For once my patience and courtesy were gone, and I didn’t really care.

  Somewhere deep, in one of the dark places of the world something woke. It stirred restlessly, stretching a body that had been still for almost a millennium. The world itself had shaken, as if it would throw off the shackles of dormancy and drown the world in fire. Things were still now, but it could feel a lingering expectancy, as if the world had merely gone quiet, hushed in waiting for some larger event.

  Slowly it shook the dust from its ancient form and began making its way toward daylight and fresh air. It was hungry, for it hadn’t eaten in nigh on a thousand years.

  Chapter 26

  I returned to the Duke’s castle with William. I wasn’t sure
what he had seen or felt, and for that matter I wasn’t sure what I had seen or felt either. My mind had been different in that other form and my memories were strange to me. William didn’t say anything when I found him and I didn’t volunteer any information. I did notice that he kept his distance and he gripped his bow with a certain anxiety I hadn’t seen in him before.

  Walking through the main gate I noticed the guards looked shaken. I had an uneasy feeling that I might be the cause, but I said nothing, merely kept walking. When I reached the main door of the keep James met me. “Did you feel the earth shake?” he asked.

  I could only assume he meant my theatrics an hour past. “Yes.”

  “We’ve never had earthquakes here before, any idea what might have caused it?” His face was drawn in worry and concern.

  “Not really,” I lied. I had a feeling he would learn the truth soon enough, if he didn’t suspect already, but I didn’t much care. I only had one goal now and it was hard to see past it.

  Something in my demeanor must have tipped him off. “What is that look? You don’t seem very concerned about what happened.”

  I shrugged, “I’m not particularly.” I stepped around him and started walking again.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To talk to that wizard you captured,” I said calmly.

  Despite James’ age, experience, and smooth face, I felt a flicker of anxiety when he spoke again. It was very plain to see in the aura my mage-sight showed around him. “He isn’t awake yet.”

  I stopped but didn’t turn to look at him. “Don’t lie to me James. I understand what you are trying to do, but please don’t try to lie to me.” After a brief pause I resumed walking, not waiting for a response.

  He didn’t move to follow me but before I left the hall he shouted after me, “What are you planning to do?”

  I didn’t reply, at least no loudly enough for him to hear. I muttered my response quietly to myself instead, “I’m just going to ask some questions.” And find out who is behind the murder of my wife and unborn child, I added mentally. A cold stillness had swallowed my heart, leaving only an icy anger mixed with determination. “Then I’ll start burning parts off of him… but not too quickly. I wouldn’t want to rush things after all.” I smiled.

  As I passed through the corridors heading for the stairs that would lead me down to the dungeon my mother and Genevieve found me. They were the last people I wanted to see so I ignored them and with a word I blocked the hall with a shield of invisible force. My sanity was mostly gone but I still didn’t want them to see what would happen below. Better they should stay up here, I thought to myself.

  I was almost to the stairs now and as I walked a quiet part of myself watched in detachment. If Marc or Rose were here they might have been able to calm me down, but they were much too far away to help. Penny would have been even better, and that thought made my stomach tighten. Inside all I could feel was an icy knot of pain, but my mind held nothing but images of flames.

  I turned a corner and found Ariadne standing before the door leading to the dungeon stairs. “Mordecai I need to talk to you.”

  “Please move,” I said flatly.

  “I have to talk to you,” she said with a look of determination, gone was the girl frightened of her father I had seen earlier. Idly I wondered when she had become a woman; it seemed just a day ago she had been Marc’s annoying little sister. The part of me that was doing the wondering wasn’t in charge though; I didn’t have any room for indulging my nostalgia… not anymore.

  I already knew she was wearing one of the necklaces I had made so I didn’t bother trying to put her to sleep. I didn’t want to hurt her but my patience was extremely short on supply. “Borok Ingak,” I said, blowing the door behind her apart with a precision I had lacked a year ago. The sudden loss of support behind her caused her to stumble backward and she might have fallen down the stairs but I had already stepped forward to catch her by the hand. “Careful, Marc would never forgive me if I accidentally hurt you,” I said softly as I pulled her away from the doorframe.

  The frightened look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. Something in my tone had already given away my secret. I had gone feral; worse, I was consumed by the desire to commit murder. “Mort you have to listen to me!” she cried as I pushed her back and used a shield to seal the doorway between us.

  I turned my back on her and began descending the stairs. The quiet part of me observed that the darkened stairwell might well be a metaphor for my own spiritual descent into darkness. “You don’t want to see this Ariadne,” I said as I went. I didn’t particularly worry about whether she heard me or not.

  “Penny left you a note! Did you see it?!” she yelled at my back. Her words were muffled slightly by the screen of force blocking her way, but I heard them nonetheless. My feet stopped of their own accord.

  “What?” I turned back in annoyance. The poor girl, beautiful as she was, was in tears.

  “She left a note for you. Joe McDaniel was supposed to give it to you.”

  My anger made room for a bit of ordinary irritation. “I can read it later, nothing is going to change my mind at this point.”

  I started to turn away again but she screamed at me, “She had a vision! She wanted you to read it before you did anything else… she knew Mordecai! She knew!”

  My cold rage was becoming a rather more normal hot anger, “Just tell me what it said damnitt!” I removed the shield from the doorway and walked back up to her. I wanted nothing more than to finish our conversation so I could go down and take care of my unfinished business. My hands were itching with impatience.

  “I don’t know!” she said desperately. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me, but she wanted you to read it. She knew what was about to happen and she said only you should see the note.

  For the first time since I had resolved to slowly torture the man held below to death, I truly paused to think. If she knew then she must have had a plan, I thought. That might mean she isn’t dead, but for some reason didn’t want anyone to realize that fact. That meant her note might have been left to prevent me from making a mistake, based on that assumption. There really wasn’t any way to second guess her without reading it first.

  I looked at Marc’s sister. She was a wreck. Tears stained her cheeks and her eyes were swollen. I had given her quite a fright. Still my heart was not capable of much compassion, not yet anyway. Mechanically I embraced her, “I’m sorry for scaring you.” Then I pushed her away and headed for the teleportation circles. I needed to see Joe. “Tell your father I’ll pay the bill for the door,” I said absently as I went.

  At first she didn’t answer but as I passed from her view I heard her mutter behind me, “Nobody cares about the damn door, least of all Father. We just want you to stay sane Mordecai.” She probably thought I hadn’t heard her, not that it mattered.

  I found Joe pacing outside the building housing the teleportation circles in Castle Cameron. His eyes lit on me emerging from the double doors with obvious relief. “Thank the gods you came back!”

  I gave him a grim stare. “You know better than to praise the gods in front of me Joe.”

  His face registered shock at my tone, “It’s just an expression of habit…”

  “Well change it. Where’s the note she sent you?” I said bluntly.

  “Ya know I’ve spent most of every day waiting out here for you to return and sure enough you show up when I’m in the privies…” he said nervously. His slightly foreign accent became more pronounced when he was anxious. Reaching into his jacket he withdrew a sealed envelope.

  I took it from him and began walking. He fell in beside me. “I’ll take lunch in my rooms,” I told him.

  “Pardon ser?”

  “I’ll be in my rooms for a while, thinking.” I held up the envelope and waved it at him. “I’m sure I’ll have a lot to think about. Make sure I’m not disturbed, except for some food and wine.”

  “Of course your Lord
ship,” he said and when we entered the keep proper he headed in the direction of the kitchens to relay my instructions to the cook. As he walked away I felt a twinge of guilt for my abrupt behavior. Joe was a friend, and I had rarely treated him roughly. Hopefully he would understand later.

  Pushing that thought aside I mounted the stairs leading up to the apartments I had until recently shared with my wife. That thought made me clench my teeth anew.

  Once I had closed the door behind me I carefully opened the envelope Joe had given me. It was still sealed with the bit of wax she had carefully pressed onto it. The impression in the wax showed the delicate seal of a woman’s ring, small and bearing the Cameron arms. I held my breath as I pulled it loose and looked at the contents.

  My Love,

  I know how frustrated and angry you are, for I have seen the events that have led you to this moment. What I do not know is how you will react to these words. My hope is that you will take my advice and do what is best for everyone. The vision I saw was one in which you did not receive this, and I did not like what I saw. You must not let your anger blind you, if you do so, you will damn us all, starting with yourself.

  The man I know, the man I love, is given to compassion. Do not let this break your spirit. I have seen what will happen if you pay heed to your darker impulses. It is a bleak and empty path, and you will no longer be the man I have loved. There is still hope if you do not despair. I cannot say more than that.

  I must apologize for the deplorable lack of information here. I cannot tell you most of what I have seen, lest it change things even further beyond what I have seen. You will have to trust me yet again. I will say that I had no intimation of any of this until you left us in Lancaster. That was probably for the best, for I doubt I could have kept it a secret if I had known. You would have seen through my acting and drawn the secret from me, possibly dooming everyone.

  Here is the important part, the part that might change the future for the better. Do not let your anger rule you. The wizard in Lancaster’s dungeon is not your enemy. His surname is Prathion, and if you will open your heart he may be your greatest ally. Ask him who healed Miriam; his answer should help you understand.

 

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