by Peter David
Leaving me, of course, with the other half.
And one half of infinity is still quite a lot to have at one’s disposal.
This knowledge gave me great comfort as I picked up the other half of my staff, which lay on the ground where Beliquose had tripped over it. Then I connected the two halves, popped out the blade from the dragon’s tongue on the one end, and proceeded to pry as many of the gems out of the wall as I could reasonably reach. I got quite a nice little collection, fashioning a sling from my cape so that I could carry them easily, and made my way out of the cavern.
I emerged from the cave some minutes later, blinking against the sun that was coming up over the horizon. The burning in my chest had subsided greatly. I could only conclude that it had been caused by the proximity of the one “eye” to the other, and with its mate gone, so, too, was the heat. I wondered what the result would have been if the one eye had joined with the other. Ultimate power for the holder? An explosion the likes of which had never before been seen in the world? I was glad I was never going to have to find out. And as for Beliquose …
Well, hell, it was entirely possible that everything he’d said to me had been a complete lie. That rather than dispose of the gems, he was instead going to use them for some nefarious purpose all his own. Yes, he’d talked a good game, certainly, but in the end … what does any of us really know about each other? I mean, really know?
These thoughts gave me great comfort as I prepared for my return home. Upon returning to where the horses had been tied, I was surprised to discover that not only were they still there, intact and untouched by predators, but Mordant was there as well. He was perched upon a rock nearby, and he flapped his wings slowly in greeting upon seeing me. He let out a caw that was much more restrained than his usual noise, which led me to believe that he was nursing an injury.
“Kept an eye on my ride, did you? Well done,” I said approvingly. Mordant bobbed his head, but he was watching me with great curiosity. It was as if he was aware there was something different about me. And who knows, there might have been. At that moment, though, I was still not in the best of shape to give it any thought. I shoved the gems, wrapped up securely in my cape, into the saddlebag and then mounted up, my head still whirling with doubts.
But once I was under way, riding one of the horses while leading the other along by its reins, I had not only convinced myself that Beliquose was the greatest potential evil that the world had ever faced … but that I, in fact, had already saved all humanity from the insidious plans that he’d been cooking up.
Why? Because I was the hero, that was why. No damned supporting character or obstacle to someone else’s epic tale was I.
Proving, I suppose, that with the capacity for infinite power comes also the capacity for infinite self-delusion.
Chapter 6
The Woad Not Taken
It was odd. I had not remembered a fork in the path before.
The ride back to the Golden City had been fairly uneventful, which naturally was fine with me. I had already left thoughts of Beliquose far behind me; concerns and second-guessing were as dead to me as was Beliquose himself. I wondered idly if he was still falling, tumbling end over end and howling my name in fury. An ordinary man would not survive falling for any length of time, even if the landing never came. Twisting and turning in midair would cause the back or neck to snap before long, and it would be a lifeless sack of meat completing the plunge. But since Beliquose was, like me, invulnerable to harm, there was nothing to relieve him of the drop. Maybe he knew a few good, lengthy ballads to pass the time.
The sun was high in the sky, burning with intensity, and yet oddly I didn’t feel the heat. I wondered why that was, even as I sat at the split in the road and wondered which way I should go.
I could not see the Golden City in the distance, so that was of no guide to me. The presence of the split bothered me. It was possible, I supposed, that in our hurry to pursue Beliquose we had simply ridden past it, joining up with the main road from the side path and just continuing along the way undistracted and uncaring. But still, it seemed … it seemed odd. Even unnatural in some way. I had no idea why that should be. It was just a split road, that was all, and I needed but determine which path I would travel.
I looked around for Mordant, to see if perhaps the little drabit might provide me with guidance. But he was nowhere to be seen. I whistled sharply and called his name, extending my forearm so that he could descend from the heavens and land upon it. But there was nothing. Nothing except the eerie sound of a breeze blowing across the barren landscape, and suddenly I had the uncanny feeling that I was alone in the world. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and I looked behind me and saw the same nothingness as was ahead of me. All landmarks had disappeared. Mount Aerie was not in sight, nor had the Golden City managed to appear magically. Yet magic this moment did stink of, and I did not like it in the least.
And then I saw two women approaching.
One was coming from the fork on the right, the other from the left. They were both wearing loose-fitting, sleeveless robes called abas, one of them blue, the other green. Their heads were veiled so that their faces were completely obscured. The one on the right was shorter than the one on the left, and even though I couldn’t see their features, they both appeared familiar to me for some reason.
I was comfortable and unafraid, of course. Neither of them seemed to be wielding a torch or any source of flame, nor did it seem likely that they would suddenly produce a pit to throw me into. “Ho, there, good women!” I called to them as they neared. “I seek the Golden City! Would you be able to direct me?”
The shorter of the two of them, clad in green, was nearer, and she stopped and simply stood there. My horse moved around a bit uncertainly, as if it suddenly didn’t like the company it was keeping and wanted to get out of there. I slowly became aware that something was wrong. I didn’t want to risk panicking or losing the horse, but I didn’t want to sit there and fight to keep the beast where it was; that would hardly be dignified. So I swung my leg over and dismounted adroitly. I didn’t release the horse’s reins, but I allowed it enough slack to permit the beast to back up a few paces. “How now?” I said slowly.
“Hail, Apropos,” said the shorter of the women. “Hail, Peacelord of Wuin.” And she raised a hand in greeting.
“Hail, Apropos,” called the other woman, “slaughterer of thousands and destroyer of dreams.”
It seemed most strange to me. Something wasn’t quite right. “Why do I have the feeling there should be three of you?” I asked.
The two women looked at one another, and shrugged in unison. “Don’t know,” said the green one.
“Couldn’t tell you,” said the blue.
By that point I knew. The one in blue I still hadn’t managed to place, although she seemed vaguely familiar, but the one in green I would have recognized anywhere. “All right, Sharee,” I said sharply, “why the disguise? What’s the game this time?”
“Sharee? Who’s Sharee?” asked the green-clad one, trying to sound innocent.
“Fine, to hell with you, I’ll figure out where I’m going on my own,” I said brusquely and prepared to mount up.
The green-clad one took a step forward and pulled off her veil, and of course it was Sharee all right, looking well and truly annoyed. “All right, fine, it’s me, happy?”
“Not especially, no. Are you and your associate going to try and kill me again? I doubt you’ll have better luck than you did last time,” I said carelessly, and placed my foot in the stirrup. To my surprise, however, the horse pulled away from me. My heel snagged and the animal dragged me along a few hopping paces before I could disentangle myself. “What are you about?” I demanded of the animal in annoyance.
“He knows it’s not time for you to depart yet. He, at least, has horse sense,” said Sharee. She was watching me very carefully, as if she thought I might somehow vanish into thin air at any moment. She came no closer, though, which w
as wise on her part. Considering the mood I was in at that moment, I wouldn’t have held myself responsible for my actions.
“I’m getting tired of this, Sharee.” I turned to face her, my arms akimbo. “Tired of your harassment. You’re going to have to stop dwelling on the past.”
“And you must start dwelling on your future,” she replied. She pointed with either arm to each road. “You do not know which path to take because you have lost your way.”
The woman was going to drive me insane. That had to be her plan. “Gods, Sharee, what are you doing here?”
“You summoned me,” she replied. “Or at least, that small part of you that is not utterly bereft of hope did. Soon, though, that will be gone as well, and then you will truly be lost.”
“If my being lost means that you’ll never find me, I will happily embrace that option,” I told her. I had to remind myself that she had no power over me save what I gave to her. That if I simply controlled myself, she could have no more impact upon me than could a passing breeze. “The simple fact, Sharee, is that I have found my destiny, and you can’t stand that.” I advanced on her, and she held her ground until I was almost nose to nose with her. “You can’t stand that I’m no longer the poor, pathetic, crippled thing known far and wide as Apropos of Nothing, but instead a man of wealth and stature and power.”
“That is what you are now,” she said mildly, “but have you considered what is to come? For the sins you have committed, the next life you may return as some base animal, so that you can learn proper humility.”
“There is no animal more base than humanity,” I shot back, “and all of the members of that species deserve whatever I choose to give them.”
She shook her head and made “tsk” noises. “Such hatred. Such self-loathing …”
“No. No self-loathing. For the first time,” and I thumped my chest, “I feel damned good about myself. So you and your less-chatty friend can go on your way, Sharee, if your plan was to make me feel guilty about what I’ve done. I’ve no reason to. In fact … I bow to the wisdom of others whose beliefs I once doubted,” and I bowed mockingly to her. “I fully admit it: There is such thing as destiny. And to be the conqueror of Wuin, with woad upon my face and a thousand troops at my back, is mine. My mother endlessly claimed that I had a great future to pursue, and I have done so. So save your disapproving looks and contemptuous tones, because if she were here, she would—”
The woman in blue stepped forward and pulled away her veil, and I looked in shock at the face of my mother.
The countenance of Madeline was just as I remembered it. Old beyond its years, careworn, her body sagging under the years of constant abuse that her steady stream of clients had put it through. Gray streaks in her hair, and infinite sadness in her eyes, but also hope for me and for my future.
I was rooted to the spot as she continued toward me, and when she was barely two paces away, she swung back her hand and brought it around in a blur. Her hand slapped across my face with such force that it rocked me on my heels. I didn’t feel it, for all the blood had already drained from my face.
“How dare you,” she said, her voice angry and brittle and unutterably sad. “How dare you invoke my name after all you’ve done … as if that justifies it. As if I’d approve of it.”
“You’re … not here,” I whispered. “You can’t be here.” I pinched myself, tried to wake myself in case it was some sort of dream. I felt no pain. Of course I felt no pain. I couldn’t be hurt.
Madeline trembled a moment, as if seized with emotions so violent that she couldn’t figure out how to channel them, and then with an angry shriek she slapped at me again. What was I supposed to do? Punch her? Yank out my sword and carve her up? No matter the circumstances, no matter how bizarre and unreal what I was witnessing, this … this being … was my mother. I backed away, keeping my arms in front of my face to block her blows, but otherwise offered no defense.
“After everything I did for you!” she cried out. “All the sacrifices I made! The future I foresaw—!”
“Future! Future!?” I stopped retreating and instead shouted at her with wounded pride. “How many times did I have to listen to you spin fables about grand destinies and phoenixes—!”
“They weren’t fables!” Madeline insisted, slapping at my chest. I stepped back, managing to avoid her altogether. “I saw a phoenix! A phoenix, rising from its own ashes in a glorious burst of flame!” She looked as if she were desperately trying to make me understand. “Flame is a symbol of purity! Of rebirth! Of knowledge! You recoil from flame because it’s all anathema to the darkness within you! That’s what you have to use against yourself—!”
“Against myself!? This is madness!” I pulled away my wrist as Madeline reached for it, and turned to face Sharee, who was watching all that was happening. “This is your doing!”
“Perhaps,” said Sharee evenly. “Or perhaps it’s your mother’s. Or maybe it’s even your own.”
I lunged at her then. I have no idea what I would have done had I gotten my hands on her, but it didn’t matter. One moment she was there, the next I was grasping at empty air. I stumbled and hit the ground, twisting around in place and looking up at the two of them. “Why the hell can’t you leave me alone! What do you want from me?”
“We want you to achieve your destiny,” they chorused.
“I did!”
“It’s false,” said Sharee, and Madeline chimed in, “It is not what it appears.”
“The only thing that’s not what it appears around here is you!” I said sharply. “I’m getting out of here!” I scrambled to my feet to get to my horse, and stumbled back as I heard a deafening roar. What I saw nearly caused my eyes to leap out of my head.
A dragon and a lion were wrestling one another upon the ground. The carvings upon the head of my staff having come to life, they were struggling with the sort of ferocity that only truly wild beasts can summon. The dragon was on its back, trying to shove the lion away with its forelegs as the carnivore’s slavering jaws sank closer and closer to the dragon’s neck. Letting out a roar so fearsome that the ground beneath me shook, the dragon shoved the lion off, twisted around, and opened its mouth wide. With an explosive belch, a gargantuan fireball leaped out of its mouth … straight toward me.
I barely had time to unleash a terrified shriek and then the flame engulfed me. I went down, writhing upon the ground, trying to beat the flames away from me. Madeline and Sharee, standing nearby, watched impassively.
“If the gem is the Eye of the Beholder,” Sharee intoned, as if I weren’t dying right in front of her, “then it stands to reason that someone is watching through the eye.”
And still there was no pain. There were small bits of smoldering flame upon me that I extinguished, but it took the last of my strength. I lay there upon the ground, staring up at the sun, unable to move, barely able to breathe. I couldn’t lift my head to look at myself, but I was certain that the sight that would have greeted me would have been my body blistered and burned beyond recognition.
A great shadow began to move across the sun, blotting it out. It reminded me of the time I’d seen such a thing before, when I first awoke to my new life as “Peacelord.” But this time it was moving far more quickly, as if anxious to devour the source of light and life that shone down upon our world.
And then my view of the sun was blotted out by the face of my mother. I tried to speak but once again found myself unable to do so, overwhelmed by emotion. My mother had woad upon her face, drawn in the same pattern that had adorned my own visage when I had gone into battle. She leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead. I didn’t feel that, either, and tears began to run down my face because I’d never wanted to feel a kiss so much in my life as that gentle pressing of my dead mother’s lips against my blackened skin.
She leaned back then and the sobbing in my throat turned into choked horror. It was no longer the blue mud of woad upon her. Instead her face was covered with darkened blood, dripping
down. And it provided a stark and ghastly contrast to the softness of her voice as she whispered to me, “You’ve chosen the wrong path.”
“But … but I did it for … for you …”
Her bloodied features hardened while, behind her, Sharee rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t blame it on me,” my mother said. “You did it for everyone but me …”
“Meander,” I said desperately. “King Meander. When I heard that he had returned, I knew I had to capture him, slay him … for you! For you!”
Mockingly, she feigned excitement. “For me? Truly? And how will slaying him bring me back?”
I paused. “It … it won’t … but it will allow you to rest in peace …”
“I rest, Apropos, with or without his death. It makes no difference to me. Only to you.”
“But … but at least he’ll harm no one else … he … he is the one who killed you … right? Right?”
The sun was almost completely gone. Madeline’s face above me was beginning to fade, and she was shaking her head sadly.
And then, very slowly, very deliberately … she winked at me.
I cried out even louder, my voice rising. “Right? Mother! Wait! Don’t—!
“—go!”
I sat upright suddenly, and Mordant let out a startled shriek. He had been staring at me with those glittering eyes, but my sudden movement had disconcerted him, and he squawked in protest.
I twisted about, gyrating in what must have been a most comical fashion to anyone who happened to be looking on. There was darkness around me, and for an instant I thought that the sun had been extinguished for all time and the world plunged into eternal gloom, before I realized and remembered that it was simply nighttime. The horses were standing nearby, apparently having no trouble sleeping through my unexpected outburst. I got to my feet and turned all the way around. As before, I had no trouble seeing in the darkness, and it was clear to me that there was no split in the road ahead. Just one road leading to one destination.