Sorcerers of the Frozen Isles se-5

by Jean Lorrah

  So as Cassandra’s heart stuttered to a halt, he knelt over her and began to press sharply on her breastbone.

  “No,” said Zanos. “I have enough strength for that.” And as Torio sat back, he started Cassandra’s heart beating again at a steady rate. Soon it continued on its own. “Other healers must have survived,” Zanos said. “Astra, if we can keep her alive, as cold as it is her flesh will not turn putrid before someone can heal her. You will-”

  “Zanos, I’m not half the healer Melissa is-was. Nor were the healers we met in the City infirmary. Oh, blessed gods, I know enough of healing to know that her blood will clot where her flesh is frozen-and eventually a clot will hit her heart or her brain-”

  “Hush,” said Zanos, taking his trembling wife into his arms. “Astra-we’ve come this far together. We’ll heal Cassandra, or find someone who can.”

  It wouldn’t be Maldek, Torio knew. The Master Sorcerer still showed no signs of consciousness-and he had not done what any wounded Adept did automatically: he had not gone into healing sleep.

  Probably he would die.

  Good riddance, Torio thought, stroking Gray and trying not to think of Melissa as Zanos and Astra comforted one another. Astra was murmuring words of sympathy to her husband now about his brother, as both wept shamelessly.

  Not to intrude on their privacy, Torio Read elsewhere-and could not escape the fact that Melissa’s body lay at the foot of the steps, ice starting to creep—

  It was not yet frozen inside! As he Read it, he remembered that moment when she had grasped Maldek’s hand, become a conduit herself for the terrible force-and her shock, surprise, fear-!

  Blessed gods! Melissa never feared death. She had cried out to him-to say goodbye? To call him into death with her?

  No-Melissa was a giver of life, not a taker.

  But her cry had been an appeal, not a leave-taking. She had called on him for help-and he had let her die! Just as he had let Detrus die-!

  It was not Melissa’s time to die. He suddenly knew that as positively as he knew any of his other prophecies. And if it was not yet her time—

  What if she is lost among the planes of existence?

  “Zanos! Astra!” Torio exclaimed. “We must have a healer-and Melissa needs my help!”

  “What?” Zanos asked in confusion.

  “Make Melissa’s body live!” he said. “You can do it-make her heart beat. Make her breathe!”

  “Torio!” exclaimed Astra. “Have you gone mad? That is what Maldek did to create orbu. You do not want Melissa condemned to that!”

  “I’ll bring her back!” he said. “She died Maldek’s death, not her own! That’s what the prophecy meant, I’m certain of it. It is not Melissa’s time to die. I’ll go among the planes of existence and find her-unite her spirit with her body.”

  “Torio,” said Astra, “no one has ever done that.”

  “Yes they have!” he insisted. “/ did it-along with other Readers and Adepts. We brought Master Clement back when he was lost on the planes of existence. Zanos, Astra-Melissa may be lost the same way. Please-bring her body back for me!”

  Zanos and Astra stared at one another. “I don’t think we have the power-” Zanos began.

  “All you have to do is start her heart, keep her breathing. Please!”

  “Torio,” said Astra, “what if you are wrong? No one has ever found the plane of the dead… and returned.”

  “Astra, I have to try. You’d do it for Zanos, wouldn’t you?”

  She looked at her husband, and Torio Read the agreement pass between them.

  Carefully, they brought Melissa’s body over to the fire. In the freezing temperatures, it had not begun to decompose. Her extremities were frozen-but if Torio was right Melissa would be able to heal herself, and then Cassandra, of any damage.

  Together, Zanos and Astra had the strength to start Melissa’s heart, to make her lungs expand and contract-but unlike Cassandra’s, Melissa’s body did not take up the established rhythms on its own.

  They did not know Maldek’s secret for making orbu do so.

  At least, if Torio failed, Melissa’s body would not be condemned to that half-life.

  He lay down carefully before the fire, Gray curling up protectively against him as if the dog somehow understood that his master’s body required protection.

  Then Torio was out of his body, light and free as always-free of the painful, penetrating cold.

  For a moment he looked down at himself, then at Melissa. She appeared to be asleep; only a Reader could tell that she was dead.

  But now… how was he to find her spirit?

  There were many planes of existence. What Readers called the “plane of privacy” was undoubtedly a different place every time one went there-or perhaps a different place for each person, since one had to lead the other when two Readers sought a private conversation, and no other Reader could follow at a later time.

  The plane of privacy was empty. Readers were warned not to come here alone, for the emptiness could drag at one’s being just as the cold fire had sucked up energy—

  At the thought, Torio was suddenly aware ofIt was a trace of that cold fire! Dead now, cut off from its source, it had nonetheless left its impression.

  Torio followed it, and dared at its core to tilt into another plane-where again he found that slight trace of the dissipated power.

  Never had Torio been more than two planes of existence from his physical self. It was possible to be lost even on the plane of privacy-but he could not stop now!

  Again he followed the trace of dead energy, and found himself under a night sky filled with stars.

  No-not underin the middle of. He was out in the midst of space, stars off in every direction to the very edges of the universe.

  How marvelous to remain suspended here forever, reveling in such beauty—

  But Melissa was not here. He must go on. Again he Read outward, seeking that trace of cold fire, harder to find here amid the hot fire of stars, the cold ice of comets.

  Just as he feared the trail was lost, he found it again, ashes of exhausted power. Again he put his “self in its center, and shifted to another plane.

  Winds howled and groaned. Astral forces ripped Torio from the “place” where he had entered, whipping his presence about helplessly, disorienting him.

  In the moaning, weaving wind, though, he sensed again the expended power-somehow found the current that would take him to where it alone hung suspended in the center of the storm-and there he shifted planes again, into more wailing-But these were people wailing! Spirits lost on the planes of existence-helpless, hopeless, gone mad with their inability to find their way either back to their bodies or onward to the plane of the dead!

  “Melissa!” Torio projected, both hoping and fearing to find her here. “Melissa-come back with me!

  We need you, Melissa-/ need you!”

  He was answered by mocking howls. “Mellllisss-ssaaaa! Melllisssaaa! Mellissaa!”

  Incoherent beings surged around him, challenging his presence.

  Minds grasped at his-twisted minds that echoed Maldek’s power-madness. Minds that rejected death.

  And out of the chaos one mind he knew—

  Not Melissa!

  Another mind, recognizing him, bent on destroying him as he had destroyed her-!

  “Portia!” he identified. The corrupt Master of Masters who had died in the earthquake at Tiberium!

  “Torio!” she challenged. “Lenardo’s minion! You tried to kill me-but you killed only my body. I’ve been waiting for you-all of you, Lenardo, Aradia, Melissa-”

  “Melissa? Is she here?” Torio interrupted, terrified that the evil woman had Melissa trapped in this place of madness.

  “Yes!” she told him. “Melissa is mine, now. Come, Torio-enter our company if you wish to find her!”

  But Portia no longer had the control of a Master Reader. Torio Read clearly her surprise at his question, and her spontaneous, opportunistic lie. In truth,
she had not seen Melissa.

  “You are lying,” he told her flatly-but he was unable to conceal his disappointment.

  Portia answered him with angry laughter. “You’ve lost her, have you? Well, you’ve gained me, blind Torio! Still alive, aren’t you? Stay here with me awhile-and then when I have properly trained you, I will send you back to do my work. I left far too much undone, thanks to you!”

  As Torio remained conversing with Portia, the chaotic mass of garbled minds drifted out to surround him-would trap him here if he did not escape.

  As they could not escape—

  He dared not go in such a way as to show them how, to spread their madness throughout the planes of existence!

  He was trapped here, as effectively as Portia!

  But he had learned something about manipulating those who could Read thoughts-from Maldek, of all people.

  “Yes, Portia,” he told her, “you did leave too much undone. Teach me how to wield power. I am searching for Melissa to learn both Reading and Adept powers. But you can teach me to rule better than she can. Show me, Portia-show me how you, a Reader confined to the Academy, gained power within the Aventine Empire next only to the Emperor’s own!”

  Her mental laughter was sarcastic this time. “He only thought my power was second to his,” she replied. “A few more years, and I would have ruled the empire, the Emperor merely my puppet. You wish to learn this, Torio? Yes, I knew you sought power when you fled the Academy. You will work well for me. Let me show you how I rose to power, that you may do the same.”

  And her mind began to conjure up images of the past, of a royal child identified as a Reader, condemned-as she perceived it-to the poverty and powerlessness of the Academy, where she grew into the most powerful Reader within memory.

  Not only Torio watched and listened; so did the others on this plane, drawn to the tale of manipulation and extortion, gathering mentally about the storyteller as Torio carefully edged his presence away from Portia’s self-absorption.

  As he reached the edge of the circle of yearning minds, though, Portia noticed that her audience had shrunk by one.

  “Torio-come back!” she projected-but she was too late. Other minds shielded him from Portia. His diversion had worked as effectively as Maldek’s.

  He shifted planes, and quickly shifted again, the technique to guarantee privacy-or escape-even if someone succeeded in pursuing him through the first shift.

  But he had lost all trace of the cold fire.

  “Melissa!” he projected hopelessly. Her name echoed back to him-he was on a finite plane, it seemed.

  Yes, he could Read its dimensions as he could not the others’. And, as with so many of the planes of existence, his was the only presence here.

  Wherever “here” was.

  He could go on shifting planes endlessly-but what good would that do? The chances of finding the plane Melissa was on were too small to calculate.

  He was lost.

  Still… he could not give up.

  He shifted planes, and found a world where he was bombarded by tastes and smells instead of sights and sounds.

  Another shift, and music such as he had never heard in the world he came from rang out in absolute purity. He was held, spellbound. There were no instruments or voices. It was pure music itself-perhaps the plane from which musicians like Zanos and Astra drew their inspiration? Or to which they contributed the pure forms of their compositions?

  If so, then… artists also reached out to the planes of existence while in their bodies!

  And most were not even Readers.

  If an artist could tap this plane the way Maldek tapped the planes of power, then surely Torio could reach out to the plane on which Melissa was…?

  He envisioned her, then let her mental image rise in his mind, her sweet thoughts, her gentle caring, her strong will when she knew she was right-Without knowing how, Torio suddenly discovered his

  “direction,” shifted planes, and found Melissa.

  She was with Dirdra, Kwinn, and Bryen.

  They were visual-he could actually see Melissa’s heart-shaped face and curling hair, Dirdra and Bryen’s red locks-but both Bryen’s hands were there and whole.

  As for Kwinn—

  He was a man, close to Dirdra’s age, tall and strong and whole. The light of intelligence shone in the green eyes identical to his sister’s.

  Torio understood that the nonReaders could not comprehend their nonphysical selves except in the form they were accustomed to-but perfected.

  And this plane was also a plain-land below, sky above, lighted even though no sun was visible. It took the form expected by those who traveled it.

  Ahead on the plain was a huge stone archway, other travelers walking toward it from many directions.

  They might have burned or frozen to death in Madura’s conflict, but here they were whole and healthy, hurrying eagerly toward that entryway into light.

  That archway-or was it a tunnel? — was the source of the light illuminating this world.

  Realizing that they perceived his usual appearance, Torio stood before his four friends, blocking their way.

  “Torio,” said Kwinn. “I know you-you are Dirdra’s friend, and therefore mine.”

  “I am glad to meet you at last, Kwinn,” Torio replied, “but I have come for Melissa.”

  “Torio,” she replied mildly, “you do not belong here. It is not yet your time.”

  “Nor yours,” he reminded her. “Come back with me, Melissa.”

  “I cannot,” she told him. “I died. I belong on the plane of the dead.”

  “Maldek didn’t die-but he will not recover without a healer. If there is no one with the power to restore his lands, your death is meaningless. Everyone in Madura will die, and the land will remain a frozen waste.”

  It was the right appeal, catalyzing Melissa’s need to care for others. “But I must guide-” she began.

  “We are here now,” said Dirdra.

  “We know the way,” added Kwinn, taking his sister’s hand.

  “Tell Zanos,” added Bryen, “that I am happy we found one another again.”

  Torio was rather surprised that the three showed no interest in returning to the world from which they had been so abruptly torn, but Melissa smiled at them. “We will remember you,” she said, not offering to touch them-nor did Torio. He and

  Melissa did not belong here… yet. Apparently Dirdra and Kwinn and Bryen understood that they did.

  They Read when their appearance vanished to the three nonReaders, although to one another Torio and Melissa were as much “there” as ever.

  But in a moment Melissa confessed, “Torio-I do not know the way back.”

  Ill think I do,” he replied. “Not the way I came-Portia will be lying in wait along that path.”

  “Portia!”

  “She is with those who refuse to accept death. I made certain she could not follow me.”

  Ill hope so!” Melissa agreed. “How do we get home?”

  “Zanos and Astra are waiting, keeping your body alive,” Torio told her. Ill think I know of a plane from which we can reach them. Come-”

  Together, they moved from where they were, to—

  Cold white fire!

  “No!” Melissa screamed mentally as it tried to suck her back into its grasp.

  In its own sphere, the white fire had utter purity, not evil here, where it belonged-merely existence.

  “Melissa-stop fighting it!” Torio urged-for he recognized that just as Dirdra, Kwinn, and Bryen had made images of themselves for coping with a new plane of existence, Melissa had an image of that power sucking energy from her, trying to pull her in as it had done when it entered their world.

  But here, it remained in balance so long as there was no entry for it into another plane.

  Melissa struggled, her own expectations causing the power to attack her.

  “Melissa-observe!” Torio commanded-like a Master Reader instructing a pupil.

&
nbsp; Melissa’s Academy instinct took over. Her struggle subsided… and Torio showed her that out of body they could not feel cold-they had no physical energy for it to drain from them. Then he imagined the cold white fire drawing back from her, leaving her untouched, untainted.

  “How-how did you do that?” she asked in awe.

  “Read the power,” he replied. “It is in equilibrium here-it takes only a thought to manipulate it. Go ahead-you can do it as well as 1.

  And Melissa discovered that she could.

  Her relief, however, did not last long. “We are still lost,” she observed. “This is not where you meant to come, is it?”

  “No, I meant to find the plane of music-but Melissa, there is also a direct path from this plane to our world. Through Maldek.”

  “Through-?”

  “How often did he tap this power? If we seek him from here-”

  “What if we unleash this power into Madura again?”

  “We won’t. We know how to control it now.”

  “We do?” she asked skeptically. “What happens once we return? You know how different things seem out of body.”

  Ill know,” he replied. “But Maldek controlled this power while in his own body-so can you. You will need it, Melissa. Your body died. Zanos and Astra are forcing your heart to beat, your lungs to breathe-but there is great damage from the cold. Probably to my body too, by now. You will have much healing to do. Only by using this power as Maldek did will you have the strength.”

  She remained silent for some time, studying the cold white fire surrounding them, so quiet and harmless now. But open that circuit-

  “Melissa,” Torio suddenly realized, “the secret is never to allow the power to reach beyond your own touch. Remember? Maldek sent it out to attack Rokannia and the other sorcerers-that’s when he lost control.”

  “But it is an evil power,” she insisted. “Why did Madura turn so cold, long before we arrived? It had to be this power Maldek was using-”

  “Or simply his neglect of the climate,” Torio speculated. “I’ve come to understand that power isn’t evil.

  Only what we do with it is good or evil. You are good, Melissa. You will use this power to heal-we’ve seen it used for that.”

  He got the impression of a nod from her. “You are right. So… let us try to go back before Zanos and Astra become too tired to keep my body alive any longer.”