The Girl Who Dreamed of a Different World

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The Girl Who Dreamed of a Different World Page 8

by Niall Teasdale


  ‘Paradokkusu. You don’t have a word for it in Alabethi. Okay, yeah. I did actually think of that when I came up with the idea.

  But I figured, what the Hell, it’s magic. Then I got told magic couldn’t do it at all… Anyway, so it really could be this Cadorian guy, brought forward in time so he can defeat Serpens all over again.’

  ‘It’s certainly possible,’ Orin said. ‘I guess the evidence is circumstantial, but it looks like that might have happened.’

  Kana could only really think of one thing to say to that. ‘Poor man. This is going to be just as bad for him as it was for me.’

  19 th Menkarte.

  ‘That’s him?’ Kana asked, her eyes on the high table.

  ‘Cadorian Dragonbane,’ Aneshti replied. ‘If nothing else, the hair is a giveaway. In legends, he always has that mixture of purple and green strands. That’s really rare in vertagi these days. It was a lot more common among the Seaflower clan. That’s his clan and they died out a few thousand years after the Dragon Wars.’

  ‘That’s another thing he likely won’t enjoy discovering then. He certainly looks the part.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think the legends do him justice.’ There was a bit of a dreamy quality about Aneshti’s voice and it was possibly warranted: Cadorian was an attractive man.

  He had walked through the hall with the Master to get to the high table, so Kana knew that he was taller than the old wizard. She figured he was around a hundred and eighty centimetres, which was actually only a couple of centimetres taller than Kana. He also looked like a warrior. He was dressed in a light tunic and slacks rather than golden armour, but his body appeared to be solid muscle with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, and uniformly tanned skin. He had the kind of chest it would probably be awesome to rest your head against. His features were both strong and delicate. His jaw tended to the narrow and his chin was a little pointy, but there was still a strength and firmness to it.

  He had high cheekbones and narrow cheeks, strongly arched eyebrows, and green eyes which had the characteristic angular quality of elves on Soken. His nose was narrow and had a strong bridge. His mouth took away from the muscleman image, being possessed of full, rather sensuous lips. Then there was that hair which fell to his right shoulder in waves and was tucked back on the left to show a single pointed ear. His hair was banded in verdant green and purple. Kana would have said it had to be dyed, except that this was an elf.

  ‘If this was my world,’ Kana said, ‘there would already be conspiracy theories saying that the Master had created a copy to fool people into thinking that Cadorian was back.’ Well, the hair could be dyed.

  ‘That’s possible,’ Myshta said, ‘but you need part of the original person to make a copy. Cadorian vanished thousands of years ago. No original to copy.’

  ‘Isn’t there some way of looking back into the past? Or is that governed by the “no travel into the past” rule?’

  ‘There are some spells that can look back about a year, but that’s it. That’s why legends are legends. We can’t look back to find out what really happened.’

  ‘Huh. But that means there’s no such thing as a murder mystery here. You can always find out who killed Tarō Yamada by looking at what happened.’

  ‘ If you know where he was killed,’ Orin said, ‘and assuming the murderer hasn’t used some form of scrying protection to stop you looking.’

  ‘Oh, well, I guess you can have a murder mystery then.’ Kana’s gaze shifted back to the high table. ‘So, I guess we’ll have to assume he’s the real thing. I never got to sit up there with the Master.’

  ‘Well, you’re the wrong hero,’ Aneshti said, grinning to show she was not being malicious about it.

  ‘There is that.’ Shrugging, Kana picked up her spoon. ‘I’m not any kind of hero, to be honest. The Master really messed up summoning me. Hopefully, this time he scored.’

  24 th Menkarte.

  ‘Why do we have to have such crappy cutlery?’ Kana asked as she bent her spoon back into shape. As is often the case, what she ended up with was a spoon with a crimp in it, but at least it was relatively straight rather than bent at a forty-degree angle.

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’ Myshta asked.

  ‘It’s too… It’s copper, right? Copper’s too soft. If it were iron, or steel, it wouldn’t bend like this.’

  ‘Steel is far too expensive for utensils. I doubt it would be economical to make iron spoons either. Besides, we can’t have iron implements.’

  ‘Because of the elves,’ Aneshti added before Kana could ask why.

  ‘Iron is…’ The elf shuddered. ‘It’s just horrible.’

  ‘It messes with magic,’ Orin said. ‘If you have a lot of iron in contact with you, it’s harder to work magic. Elves are more closely tied to the world’s magic field, so they react badly to having iron in contact with their skin.’

  ‘Even wearing gloves, if I have to touch something made of iron for any length of time, I start getting really tired. If I had to eat dinner with an iron spoon, I’d probably collapse from exhaustion before I got to the end of a bowl of stew.’

  Kana frowned. ‘What about the metal in your bra?’

  ‘Master Stoknar uses copper for the bras meant for elves. My copy of the prototype was a trial to see whether it would work.’

  ‘I did not know that.’

  ‘A day without learning is a day without joy,’ Myshta said.

  ‘Anyway, that’s why you have a bent copper spoon. It’s to stop Aneshti falling asleep in her bowl of stew.’

  ‘It’s not–’ Aneshti began.

  ‘Anyway,’ Myshta continued, ‘what’s got you so grumpy, Kana?’

  ‘I’m not–’ Kana began.

  ‘You’ve been living with bent spoons for several years now and you’ve never complained before.’

  ‘I…’ Kana’s gaze shifted to the high table where Cadorian could be seen sitting beside the Master. ‘Cadorian, I guess. His arrival brought back all my feelings about my summoning. Little things about this place have been bugging me all week.’

  ‘Well, nothing’s really changed,’ Orin pointed out. ‘You still have to live with the place.’

  ‘I know, but for right now, I don’t have to like it.’

  25 th Menkarte.

  ‘Is everything alright, Kana?’

  Kana stopped and looked around at Sharassa. Kana was on her way back to her room and the meeting had been entirely random, a chance passing in one of the keep’s corridors. The question had come out of the blue. ‘I’m… as well as I usually am.’

  ‘You seem out of sorts. Your shoulders are more slumped than usual. Your face is empty of expression.’

  ‘Oh.’ Apparently, Kana’s funk was still showing. ‘Well, to be honest, it’s Cadorian.’

  Sharassa frowned. ‘I wasn’t aware you had met.’

  ‘We haven’t. It’s not him directly. It’s just that his arrival has reminded me why I’m here. How’s he taking it? He’s been dragged out of his time to a completely different world. I don’t think even a Greater Wish can send him back. I mean, if he could go back, he wouldn’t have vanished from history, right? I might have a really small chance of getting home, but there’s no chance for him.’

  ‘You’re right, of course,’ Sharassa said in a distracted tone.

  ‘There is no way he can return to his own time… He’s taking it better than one might expect, I think. When the Master explained the reason for the summons, Cadorian… He seemed to think that it was his duty to continue the fight. He’s being taught Alabethi.

  Luckily, there is an elf available with some experience in language tuition.’

  ‘He’s got a private tutor? He’s not in with the kids? I won’t comment.’

  Sharassa gave Kana a look. ‘I think you already have. There is an aspect of his summoning which may affect you.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I believe that it is time for us to progress your education.’

  Kana
frowned this time. ‘I’m learning Fire Swarm from Master Hoeman.’

  ‘And the rest of your time is spent making spell scrolls, I believe.’

  ‘Uh, yes. Well, it’s sort of nice to contribute, I guess.’

  Scrolls, which were a speciality of enchantment, were stocked at the castle for use in various ways by people who could not otherwise cast a specific spell. They were also traded, providing a small income source for the castle. Lastly, they were really boring to make, and Kana had been doing it a lot recently.

  ‘It is not the course we set for you when you came. I’ll consider alternatives.’

  ‘Okay, I guess.’

  12 th Hankarte.

  Sharassa had known the Master longer than anyone at the castle.

  She had been his major domo, personal assistant, and secretary for over fifty years, and in that time she had learned a thing or two. She had learned that it was sometimes necessary to work around the old man as much as working for him. He had a tendency to make up his mind, decide upon a plan, and then consider it as the plan, even when circumstances changed. He was stuck in his ways.

  Sometimes, the best way to deal with him was to create a new plan, enact it, and then explain herself when he found out. If he ever found out. He was open to reason and, to some extent, understood his own shortcomings. When he realised his original idea would not have worked, he was almost always magnanimous about Sharassa sidestepping him.

  Kana’s case was not one of those and needed a different approach.

  The Master had some ingrained attitudes Sharassa understood but could not really agree with. He did not so much believe that women were inherently weaker than men, but he did have a bad habit of underestimating women, and he solidly believed that it was a man’s role to protect women. She was sure that was what he was doing with Kana. He had agreed to her battle mage training, but he had balked at actually sending her out into the world.

  Hence her current job of scroll creator. He had kept up the

  illusion of further training by having Master Hoeman teach her spells which were taught to few of the castle’s battle mages because she had the sheer power to use them with great effect, but what he wanted Kana to do was settle into a peaceful life as a scribe. Changing his mind called for a combination of end run and direct action.

  It also called for the right timing, and that meant bringing the matter up at their regular Antora morning meetings. Sharassa waited for the old man to ask whether there was anything else he needed to discuss, and then she pounced. ‘We need to discuss Kana’s further education, Master,’ Sharassa said, as though it were simply a point on her agenda and not something she had been preparing for over a week.

  The Master, of course, frowned. ‘What is there to discuss?’

  ‘The objective of training her as a battle mage was to improve her survivability as a journeyman mage and information gatherer.

  We appear to have lost sight of this aim and, with Cadorian here, we need information more than ever.’

  ‘We have a number of operatives providing reports from the south.

  One more–’

  ‘Kana is wasted as a scribe, Master. Cadorian’s summoning has brought her own situation into focus once more. She will grow more and more unhappy if all she is permitted to do is learn spells and write them down for others to use. You need to let her be what she can be.’

  The Master was silent for several seconds. Sharassa waited.

  Patience, especially when dealing with her boss, was a virtue. ‘I assume that you have already created a full plan for finalising her education?’

  ‘Including tutoring in talking her way out of situations where force would be counterproductive.’

  ‘I’ll review it. Have her report here after classes on Pakora.

  We’ll brief her then.’

  ‘Of course, Master,’ Sharassa said, handing over a sheet of paper with Kana’s lesson plan on it. She did not smile, even if they both knew she had successfully pushed him into something he did not really want to do. Showing that fact by her expression would simply not have done.

  16 th Hankarte.

  The Master handed the same sheet of paper to Kana as she sat down to hear whatever he had to say to her. It had not been edited, but Kana was not to know that. She peered at the rather beautiful

  writing for a few seconds, recognising Sharassa’s handwriting.

  ‘More training?’ she asked.

  ‘With the arrival of Cadorian, we are going to need as many eyes and ears in the south as we can get,’ the Master said. ‘It’s likely that he will be ready to leave before you are, but your presence there with the capability to report back to me may tip the balance. His task is not going to be an easy one and it will undoubtedly take some time.’

  ‘Right… Mind-Reading? Telepathy? I’m going to learn a telepathy spell?’

  ‘It allows communication over very long distances,’ Sharassa said, ‘and the additional spells you’ll learn on the way, such as Mind-Reading, will be very useful for your information-gathering role. You will also be learning more mundane means of persuasion, and there will be lessons on the various towns and cities you may need to visit. You will have at least a passing knowledge of where everything is and what you may find there.’

  ‘That sounds… good. When do I start?’

  ‘Master Battle Mage Hoeman tells me that your tuition in Fire Swarm is almost complete,’ the Master said. ‘He will continue to teach you Firebomb next week. You’ll begin your other lessons then as well. With this schedule, you will be ready to leave here next summer.’

  It was not going to be early summer, but it was going to be summer. Another year and Kana would be leaving the castle finally. It seemed like the Master planned to keep an eye on her, but she would be free to try to find a way home. One more year.

  She could do that.

  ‘Great,’ Kana said, smiling. ‘I can’t wait to get started.’

  Chapter Four: Cadorian

  The Dragon Blight, 30 th Thokarte 6022.

  The land was lifeless for miles. Nothing grew there, and the soil was dry and had an odd, yellowish cast to it. The Dragon Blight: the place where the last true dragon, Serpens, had met his end.

  Cadorian knew it well. Sort of. It had not looked like this the last time he had seen it. The ground had been torn up where he had battled the creature. Trees had been torn from the ground and scattered. The dragon’s breath had scorched plants and the soil beneath in large areas. But there had been life here. Now there was nothing. The grass of the foothills they had been riding through died away over the course of a couple of miles – becoming yellowed and sickly as you got closer to the centre – and then it

  died out entirely, only returning as you rose up into the Dragonspur Mountains.

  ‘How far does this extend?’ Cadorian asked. His Alabethi was accented, but quite understandable. He preferred speaking Elven, but his companions did not speak his language.

  ‘It’s entirely dead for about twenty miles.’ The speaker was Master Battle Mage Garan, a middle-aged man with a slightly receding hairline and considerable strength in the arts of killing things with magic. He was the leader of four men sent out from the White Castle with Cadorian. ‘Have you noticed the magical field strength declining?’

  ‘I noticed it.’

  ‘It’s practically zero once you get into the dead zone. Clerics find it almost impossible to work their magic too. Nothing lives here. Birds avoid flying over it. People who spend the night in this place tend to have horrifying nightmares and the rest does you no good anyway.’

  Cadorian spurred his horse forward. ‘Nightmares never hurt anyone. We need to determine whether these people your master speaks of are really a threat. There’s something they need if they are to raise Serpens. This is the only place they can get it.’

  ‘So I’ve been told. That’s not going to make it easier to spend time here.’

  1 st Anokarte.

  The sound of someone
screaming woke Cadorian. Normally he would have been on his feet in an instant, weapons at the ready, but this morning he felt sluggish, as though he had not slept at all.

  He was sure he had slept quite well, but it seemed to have done him no good as Garan had suggested.

  The scream had come from one of Garan’s men who lay in his bedroll shaking for several seconds after his scream had woken everyone. His dreams, he said, were full of fire and death. Aside from Cadorian, only one of the mages appeared to have had a night’s rest, and he was sluggish and stiff on rising. Cadorian would have scoffed at their weakness, but he had to admit that the Blight was having some effect on everyone.

  Still, there was work to be done. After a cold breakfast, they took their horses and began once again to quarter the ground near the centre of the Blight, searching for any signs that someone had disturbed the earth there.

  ‘You’re sure this thing is here?’ Garan asked around midday. It was autumn, but this far south the day was far from cold and the

  sun was strong. No one was enjoying the search. ‘You weren’t here when they buried it, right?’

  ‘I left that task to others, true,’ Cadorian replied. ‘However, I’m quite sure that it is, or was, here.’

  ‘Why? There are no records of it.’

  ‘There is a very large record of it, Garan. Look around you and see the record of its interment. Why do you suppose the land is blighted here tens of thousands of years after Serpens’ death?’

  ‘You’re saying that burying a dragon’s skull here has drained the land of magic and life?’ Garan raised a hand to forestall the answer. ‘No, you’re probably right. It’s as good an explanation for this place as any.’

  ‘The skull was buried because we knew at the time that Serpens could be resurrected if someone could gain access to it. That fact was kept a secret, but I’m surprised this was not attempted before. Unless Serpens himself was not aware of the requirement.’

  Garan gave a shrug. ‘I’ve no idea whether anyone else has attempted this. The dracs aren’t noted for their brains. Maybe Serpens has been trying to tell them what to do for millennia and getting nowhere.’

 

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