Soul of Power

by G David Walker

  “Now, say what you have come to say.”

  “Well,” Tal said, “as I stated on the trail, we need your help.” He could not keep his gaze from going to Elam’s face again and again. There was no hint of softening to be seen in his son’s features.

  “Why should we aid you?” If Bartel noticed Tal’s glances at Elam, he did not give any indication.

  “Because what threatens us, also threatens you, regardless of your immunity to dimsai. You saw what Loremaster Brin was able to do. Do you believe an Altered could do less?”

  “The Altered are your problem, not ours. We have no power, so I doubt we are of any interest to them. But, merely for the sake of discussion, what do you want from us?”

  “We need you to make a staff.”

  “A staff? Can your own saiken not craft it for you?”

  Tal looked at Borin. The young Loremaster’s eyes widened, and then he cleared his throat and said, “Yes, well, ordinarily we could. However, the metal we are using absorbs dimsai. Because we use dimsai for the final shaping and polish work, we cannot create the staff as designed.”

  “That is amusing. A metal that absorbs dimsai prevents you from working with it. Interesting. What is this metal? And what is the purpose for this staff that it was important enough for you to come to us?”

  “It is called Blood Iron,” Tal said. “It is found in the foothills of the Cauldron Mountains. As to the purpose, we are hoping the staff will aid us in our conflict with the Altered.”

  “Perhaps it would suit us for the Altered to do away with the Circle and the saiken that follow it.”

  “I can underst—” Tal’s eyes widened as he saw a large sandbarb appear out of thin air directly behind Bartel and Elam. He saw the telltale twitch of the creature’s tails that signaled it was about to strike. Barely aware of Borin’s gasp of shock and the shouts of warning from the other nasaiken and Loremasters, he leaped forward, between the two men, shoving them to the sides. He raised his hand instinctively, intending to create a shield between them and the beast. The spike of pain that shot through his head was answered an instant later by twin fires of agony in his chest and stomach.

  He looked down to see the sandbarb’s stingers, each as long as his forearm, buried in his flesh.

  *****

  Bothan frowned as he watched the scene unfold from his concealment. He had considered making his presence known, but when he saw the meeting between father and son, he had chosen a different approach. The sandbarb seemed like the perfect gift for such an occasion as this. He had lost a son, more than one. It was only fitting that Tal should lose one as well. Unfortunately, thanks to Tal’s untimely heroics, events hadn’t worked out as planned.

  Looking at Tal and Elam had brought back memories of his own family, his youngest son in particular, Fergus. He had been a fine lad. Strong, brave, everything a man could hope for in a son. He had just seen his fifteenth year when Bothan found the portal. They had planned on going hunting together the next day. Now they were separated by two worlds and more years than he could count. He wondered, like a thousand times before, what they thought had happened to him. Did they think he had just left? Gotten lost in the forest? Attacked by a wild animal?

  He remembered how frantic he had been when he first arrived here. At first, he thought he was going mad. Was this a trick of the fairy folk? Why had they chosen him? What had he ever done to displease them? Then he had been brought to Lore’s Haven and met the Loremasters. He’d railed at them. Why had they done this? Why had they brought him here? He had a family, wife and sons! He had to get back to them! He’d demanded they send him back immediately. Using their power, they subdued him, held him long enough for his ranting to subside.

  Although it had taken time, they finally explained what had happened to him. They also delivered the hard news that he could never go home again. Upon hearing that, depression settled over him like heavy chains. For days he had refused to come out of the room they’d given him in the keep. When he finally did rejoin them, he was withdrawn, sullen. If they couldn’t send him back, he had little use for them.

  Then the day came when he found he could use dimsai.

  He still remembered how stunned he had been when, just on a whim, he tried to create a globe of power. When the wee ball of light appeared, hovering uncertainly over his outstretched hand, he had almost choked on his own tongue. Once the initial shock wore off, he began seeing possibilities. Maybe the Loremasters weren’t strong enough to send him back, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t become strong enough to make his own way home. He’d thrown himself, heart and soul, into learning everything he could about dimsai, and becoming as strong as possible. Then he’d met Delani, and the two of them had grown close as they worked and studied together. But as the days passed, and he learned more and more about this strange power, he began to realize the Loremasters were right. It would take more power than a body could endure to create a portal to another world. Once that had become painfully clear to him, his feelings, and his goals, changed.

  He became bitter and angry. None of them had lost anything. Only him and any other Far Planers who survived the journey. The Telerians’ lives went on, uninterrupted, while he had been thrust into a completely different world, separated from everything he held dear. They probably weren’t even trying to figure out a way to send him home. After all, they weren’t the ones stuck on another world. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Why should he suffer when they didn’t? He had lost a son, three of them in fact, and a wife. How could they possibly understand his pain and grief unless they experienced it themselves?

  Being banished had not improved his feelings toward the Circle. Even though Tal had not been a Loremaster at the time, banishment was considered a severe enough punishment that both the Loremasters and their apprentices would vote. Tal had been Loremaster Rake’s apprentice in Pearl.

  The vote had been unanimous.

  When Tal became High One, he could have reversed the decision, or at least tried to. He hadn’t. So, when Regor had come to him, Bothan had been only too happy to serve the Shadow Lord. It was a means to an end, nothing more. He would use Regor’s power to teach all of Teleria, especially the Loremasters, what it meant to suffer loss. Then the boy had come.

  Jason Bennett had ruined all of Bothan’s plans, and almost gotten him killed as well. Maybe that arrow did kill me. And the dimsai just brought me back. If that was the case, then he owed Jason a debt of gratitude. But only if Jason had intended this to happen. No. Gatlor’s arrow was meant to put an end to him. And Jason had made it possible. The boy should have joined him when he’d had the chance. Now, he would pay for his mistake. Oh yes, he would pay over and over, until Bothan finally tired of teaching the whelp his lesson. Then he would kill Jason Bennett.

  For now, he would just watch to see how Tal’s heroics served him. One thing was certain, father or son, one would die this day.

  *****

  Delani threw another furious bolt of amethyst power at the wall of her cell, panting from her repeated attempts to break through the granite. After leaving Lore’s Haven, Bodann had left her imprisoned here, promising to return for her later. The only thing that told her it was not the same cell she and the others had been in previously was the absence of the hole in the wall where Brin had tunneled in to rescue them. But just as before, every effort to escape from the inside had no effect on the dark stone walls, and trying to create a portal was an exercise in futility.

  Although she knew it was wasted effort, she sent another blast of power at the stone. It was the only thing she could do to try to appease the burning anger consuming her thoughts. Her jaw ached from gritting her teeth at the memory of being controlled, with no more volition than a child’s plaything. She had been nothing but an observer, watching her body move and act at Bodann’s whim, first in Lore’s Haven, and then later in Regor’s sanctuary. She had sensed Bodann’s anger at Regor’s attempt on Jason’s life. And, although being unde
r Bodann’s sway infuriated her, it had allowed her to see Regor humiliated, a sight which gave her no small amount of satisfaction. She could sense in Bodann’s thoughts that this was something he intended to revisit often.

  But of all the things she had been forced to do, the worst thing of all was hearing those vile words come out of her mouth as her lips professed her love for Bodann. Although they were nothing but words, she could almost taste a bitterness on her tongue just thinking about them. If she ever had the opportunity, she would show him exactly what her feelings for him were.

  At one point in her life, such words would have been closer to the truth. She thought back to when she had first met Bodann. He had arrived just before the Gathering’s End festival in her second year as an Amethyst student. At first they welcomed him as any other Far Planer. Then they found that he, unlike any Far Planer before him, could use dimsai. And not just one discipline either. He showed talent in every discipline he attempted, something no one before him, Far Planer or Telerian, had ever been able to do. He could have chosen any of the Orders.

  He chose Amethyst.

  They had been students together. As the days passed, they became friends, and then more than friends. Once he had gotten over the shock of being in a new world, and accepted that there was no way for him to return, he threw himself into his new life with an enthusiasm Delani found captivating. Being a Far Planer who could use dimsai gave him an air of intrigue and fascination that appealed to her much younger self. They spent every free moment together, practicing with their power and exchanging dreams about the future. She had been so proud of him when Loremaster Madin named him as her apprentice.

  Then, the things he said began taking a more ominous tone. It was his opinion that the Circle should only train those who would pledge allegiance to them. Everyone else could get by on what they could learn on their own. His words troubled her. They went against everything the Circle stood for, everything students of the Orders were taught. But when she tried to reason with him, he got angry, shouting at her that she was just a foolish girl who did not know how the “real world” should work. He came back later and apologized, but the pattern of argument and apology kept repeating, until one day she decided to go to Loremaster Madin with her concerns.

  Madin spoke with him, but he would not listen. When he figured out Delani had been the one to tell Madin what he had been saying, he was furious. After railing at her for the better part of the morning, he stopped speaking to her at all. The Circle tried several times to change his thinking, to no avail. If anything, he became more obstinate in his opinions, and more vocal, even shouting at the Circle on a couple of occasions. Finally, they took the only option remaining to them and ordered him away from Lore’s Haven. When he left, he did not even bother to bid her farewell.

  At first, she had been upset. Then, the longer she thought about their relationship, or at least what she had believed to be a relationship, the more she realized she had misread him. What she thought was enthusiasm, was actually ambition. His choice of Amethyst was not so much out of wanting to use his abilities in the service of Lore’s Haven as much as it was his desire to control other living things. Everything she believed about him had been born from her own girlish ideals, not from reality. Once she realized that, she vowed never again to be deceived in such a way. And when she became the Amethyst Loremaster, she had instituted the strictest admittance testing of any of the Orders. So long as she was in charge of Amethyst, there would not be another Bodann. At least not from Amethyst.

  Which brought her back to her current situation. Her reminiscing had given her rage time to, if not cool, at least subside enough for her to consider her situation. While her body had been under Bodann’s control, she had used her Amethyst talents to see if she could probe his mind, perhaps find something that could either help her break free or give the Circle an advantage they could use against him. How had he become so powerful? Although she had spoken through Brelt when they had been held captive by Regor, it had only been by Brelt’s consent. He could have taken back control at any time. And, even with his willing participation, it had been very draining on her. It had taken every bit of her focus, and she had almost collapsed afterwards. Bodann not only controlled her, but did so while acting perfectly normal and relaxed.

  She had been able to find his memories of the confrontation on the Scorched Plains, right up until he felt the arrow strike home. It had been a clean hit, slicing between the ribs and embedding itself in his heart. After that, the memories were chaotic, jumbled. A torrent of strange images and sensations, until he found himself in darkness, with power beyond anything he could have dreamed. But there were no memories suggesting what had happened to grant him such power. She shook her head. There was nothing helpful in that. The only limitation she had found so far was that he could only control one person at a time. Still very powerful, but at least there was a limit. She did not know if or how such knowledge could be used against him, but it was something.

  All that aside, the first thing she needed to do now that her head was clear, was to find a way out. She examined the walls, looking for any cracks or crevices. If she could find one, then she could look for a rat or mouse to contr—. She stopped as the realization took her breath away. To control? Like Bodann controlled you? No. She shook her head. What she was doing, what the Amethyst Order did, was different. They controlled other creatures in service to Lore’s Haven. It was not the same as what Bodann did. Is it not? Is it really that different? Are you not forcing creatures to do your bidding, regardless of their own desires? Even to her, the argument sounded forced, weak. Did the creatures she controlled experience the same fear and anger as she had? Although controlling animals was just a small part of Amethyst’s duties, if the animals felt the same as she did, how could she justify what they were doing? What she was doing? She leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor as the most terrible question she could imagine forced its way to the forefront of her thoughts.

  Was she just like Bodann?

  The Price of Peace

  Seryn ran toward the High One, quickly falling behind Gatlor and the Warders sprinting ahead of her, their weapons already drawn. Where had the sandbarb come from? It had not come up from the ground, nor from the woods around the village. It had just appeared. Like an Altered. Had Regor done this? How had he known where they were? The Altered were powerful, but not all-knowing. Had he been watching them? Following them? If so, why wait until now to do something like this? She pushed the questions aside. They could discuss them later. For now, there were more important matters at hand.

  Alongside the Lore’s Haven warriors, the nasaiken charged toward the creature also. The sandbarb pulled its stingers from the High One’s body and spun toward them, several nasaiken arrows already piercing its carapace. With the deadly weapons no longer embedded in his flesh, the High One collapsed to the ground. She saw Gatlor dive headfirst into a roll underneath the thrust of one of the massive pincers and come up behind the creature. His blade flashed in the sunlight, and one of the tails lay twitching on the ground. With the beast distracted by Gatlor’s attack, a nasaiken swordsman came up on the other side and severed the claw on that side. In a matter of moments, the sandbarb was dispatched, but the damage had already been done. The High One lay gasping on the ground, eyes wide as he stared at the sky overhead, with blood seeping from the two wounds.

  His gaze turned to her as she dropped to the ground beside him. She lifted her hands to call on her power, but he grabbed her wrist before she could begin.

  “No.” He shook his head. “You must not.”

  “But, High One, I must treat your injuries.”

  “We gave our word that we would use no power without their permission.”

  “High One…Tal…if I do not treat you, you will die.”

  He managed a smile through what must have been agonizing pain as the sandbarb’s venom ravaged his body. “It must be this way. The nasaiken must know they can trust what
we say, and my son must know I love him and regret what has happened.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “Seryn,” he said, “we have been friends for many years, even before I took this office. If you cannot respect my wishes as High One, then I ask you to respect me as…,” he clenched his teeth in a grimace of pain, and then continued, “…as your friend. Do not use your power. At least not until the nasaiken allow it.”

  She swallowed hard, forcing back tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks, and gave Tal a stiff nod of her head. She looked up at Brin and Borin, standing silently on the other side of Tal. Borin’s face wore an expression of stunned horror, and she could tell Brin was doing all he could to hold his anger in check. Then she stood, turning to face Bartel and Elam, who had come up behind her. They had to give her leave to treat him. They had to.

  “He will die unless you allow me to use my power to heal his wounds,” she said.

  Bartel raised his chin. “We will not allow power to be used here. If you must use your power, you can either break the word given by your High One, or take him to another place. No power will be used here.”

  From behind her, Tal said, “We will not...will not break our word.” She could hear the strain in his voice as he forced the words out.

  “There is no time to move him,” she said. She looked at Elam, hoping to appeal to him. “Will you allow your father to die to satisfy your pride?”

  Elam’s face was troubled. He glanced at Bartel before turning back to her and saying, “He has been as good as dead to me since the day I was banished.” He looked at Tal again. Beads of sweat covered the High One’s face, and Seryn could see him beginning to shake. They were running out of time. Elam looked at Bartel. “Still, this is no way for anyone to die.”

  “They will not let him die,” Bartel said. “He is the High One. They will treat him, and then we will send them on their way, knowing their word is worthless and they have no honor.”