The Quest for the Lost Shards of Power

by F M Andrews

  One thing was certain – he could not let her die. But knowing how to prevent it happening was totally beyond him. There had to be something he could do, he just hadn’t thought of it yet. If he could get her back to Feld he was sure Errin would be able to cure her, but they could not return for another twenty days and Eva had already stated that she might not have that long to live. Could he cure her himself, he wondered? He had watched Errin healing and learned some small useful techniques and if he could combine that with his talent he might just be able to help. Tentatively he reached for any power inherent in this world and once again it was as if it was a faintly glowing light far in the distance, diffused by a thick fog. It was there, but not easily accessible to his fumbling talent.

  He shrugged, disappointed. He had hoped for more but this was all he was going to get and he just had to make the most of it. Once Eva woke he would put his proposal to her and see what she thought. Decision made, he stopped pacing, yawned and collapsed in a big, soft leather chair. It was wonderfully comfortable, and in no time he had surrendered to the sleep his body was so desperately craving.

  A gentle shaking of his shoulder woke him with a start sometime later.

  “You should go to bed,” Eva suggested gently. “You will get a crook neck sleeping in the chair.”

  It took him a moment to remember exactly where he was, yet when he saw her warm smile, it all fell into place. Myssan had to stop himself staring. Suddenly realizing that he had been drooling embarrassingly in his sleep, he surreptitiously wiped his chin with the back of his hand and sat up straighter.

  “I have been thinking,” he began hesitantly, catching her eye in order to gauge her reaction to what he was about to propose. “I have some small talent and combined with what I have learned about healing, I might be able to help you.”

  She sat down on the arm of the chair, pushing her hair behind her ear and studied his face. “What do you mean ‘talent’?” she asked.

  Myssan was not sure how to convey it’s meaning so instead he opened up his mind and shared his experiences with her.

  She gasped. “Oh my god! You can do that?” she exclaimed excitedly. “Of course I want you to try. Are you kidding me? At this point in time I’ll give anything a go.” Then she stopped as a concern occurred to her. “There is only one thing I would ask, and that is that you make sure I will still be able to dance tomorrow. It is a very important day for me. I have waited my whole life for this this opportunity.” She paused and licked her lips. “Tomorrow I am going to dance in a performance at the Sadler's Wells Theatre.” There was such pride and excitement in her eyes that Myssan knew that this was something hugely important to her and he swallowed nervously, knowing that it was vital he did not slip up in any way.

  “I would never jeopardise that for you,” he assured her sincerely.

  “Then what do I have to lose?” she quipped. “Where do you want me?”

  Myssan asked her to lie back on the couch, drew up a chair and placed his hands on her head. Closing his eyes, he searched for power. It was so elusive, so weak that it felt as if he were grasping at spiders webs in the wind. It took all his concentration to hold onto a tiny amount yet, he hoped it would be enough. Carefully, he began to search through Eva’s body, gingerly expanding from the rhythmically beating heart down pathways that lead to her mind, her life essence. He could feel the sickness corrupting its host and the closer he came to his goal the darker and more intense it became.

  It was as if something had changed her healthy body and tricked it into destroying itself. Reaching the epicentre, he recoiled in shock. It was hideous. Curiously he drew closer, noticing something vaguely familiar about its aura. Surrounding everything was the touch of an immense, evil talent. It clouded every aspect of Eva, but it was concentrated around the mass. Yes, he could see it clearly now, a vast talent had been used not to target a specific part of her body, but to introduce a defect in her very essence. Someone had introduced this curse into certain chosen bloodlines, letting it spread indiscriminately among the people of this world. Myssan could only think of one person who would benefit from the misery, pain and suffering something like this would cause. This had to be one of Zail’s legacies.

  Myssan felt ill. What were they up against? Realising that he had been holding his breath, he slowly released it. This was not the time to get side-tracked, he had a job to do. Carefully he probed the mass looking for ways to destroy it; however, nothing obvious presented itself. His best bet would be to remove it, yet it would be tricky to take only the cancer and leave all of Eva’s healthy mind untouched. It was going to be a delicate procedure. Steadying himself, he began to try and isolate the tumour. Slowly he managed to separate a tiny piece of it from the surrounding tissue, although he could sense the power draining away rapidly, until with a desperate cry of defeat, it slipped from his grasp. He had failed.

  Exhausted, he sat back in his chair, his face buried in his hands. It was useless. He felt impotent and angry. There was just not enough power in this world for him to be able to heal her. She was going to die a horrible death, and his hatred of Zail became a burning coal in his soul. Lowering his hands, he stared at Eva’s white face as she sat up shakily, her hand raising hesitantly for her head, a question in her eyes. Reaching out to grasp her hands in his, he tried to explain. “I ... I felt it,” he began. “I felt your sickness but I was not strong enough to remove it.” He looked away unwilling to see her disappointment. “There is just too little power left in this world,” he finished quietly, knowing he had just taken her last hope away.

  Eva moved forward until she was sitting on the edge of the couch, her knees touching his.

  “Listen to me,” she began, giving his hands a gentle shake. “You have tried your best. I am no worse off now than I was. In fact, the pain is slightly less, so don’t be hard on yourself. I am so grateful to you for trying.” They sat like that, knees touching and hands clasped, for quite some time before Eva broke the silence. “Time for a cup of tea, I think,” she declared as she stood and stretched before disappearing into the kitchen from where Myssan could hear the sounds of cups rattling and water running. A short time later she reappeared carrying two cups on a tray.

  “You know, I have been thinking about what you said,” she thought as she passed him his cup. “It was interesting that you said that there was too little power left in this world.”

  Myssan nodded, unsure where she was going with this.

  “Well, that got me thinking that once upon a time we had druids who used something called ‘Ley lines’ for power. I wonder if we could use them?” she mused, raising a questioning eyebrow.

  Myssan was immediately interested. “Where would we find these lines of power?” he asked, going straight to the nub of the problem.

  “I am not really sure,” Eva admitted. “We will have to look it up,” she stated, digging in her pocket. Myssan watched in interest as she drew out one of those small rectangular, flat boxes he had seen other people looking at. With a tap and a swipe she caused lighted designs to appear. Surely this was strong magic Myssan thought, and he wondered if he could tap into its source to help Eva.

  “Where does the magic that brings your box to life come from?” he asked, fascinated.

  Eva laughed delightedly. “This is not magic, this is technology,” she replied, then seeing his confusion she tried again. “They are just clever machines.”

  Myssan was intrigued and disappointed all at once. “But what powers the machine?” Myssan persevered.

  “I suppose in the end it is electricity,” Eva replied, pointing at another box low down on the wall. It took Eva several more minutes to explain how electricity was created and distributed to the houses and the more she talked the more excited Myssan became. It sounded to him that this would be a perfect source of all the power he would need. With renewed enthusiasm, Myssan crouched down and touched the ‘socket,’ as Eva called it, and reached for its power. The disappointment was crushing. There
was a slight tingling but that was all. The power was there, but it was insignificant and not in a usable form for him.

  Flopping despondently back into his chair, he watched Eva studiously working on her small lighted box. “What does that machine do?” he asked leaning forward to get a better view.

  Eva was concentrating on what she was doing and answered distractedly. “Lots of things really, but at the moment I am asking it a question.” She tapped the glass front repeatedly. “Ah! There is a ley line called the St Michael line that runs right next to London and the closest place for us to access it would be … Royston,” she said showing Myssan a map with a straight line bisecting it. “We could go there the day after tomorrow,” she said then, glancing at her phone, exclaimed, “Gosh is that the time? I have to get to bed. I have such a big day tomorrow.” An excited smile lit up her face as she stood and performed a perfect pirouette.

  “Where would you like me to sleep?” Myssan asked.

  “I’ll just go and get some blankets and a pillow and you can sleep here on the couch,” Eva replied.

  Shortly she returned, handed him his bedding, said goodnight and took herself off to bed.

  #

  Lying, staring at the ceiling, Eva’s mind was racing. From the moment she had first seen Myssan standing uncertainly before her she had known that her life would never be the same. Everything about him sent electric shocks through her mind and body. He was tall and rangy with a lithe grace and she just wanted to melt into his arms. His dark, curly hair tied loosely back from his expressive face made her fingers itch to reach out and touch it and those concerned, dark eyes demanded a reassuring smile to twitch at her lips. He was handsome with a bright intelligence burning within, yet he did not have the arrogance to go with it. If anything he looked extremely nervous and unsure, almost desperate. When he had touched her hand it had been all she could do not to jump, the contact was so exhilarating and it had taken a moment for her to understand that he was speaking into her mind.

  At first she had been astounded then confused but finally, the pieces all fell into place. Of course, he was all a bit too good to be true. Her diseased mind must have created him for her. Was it to ease the sadness and hopelessness she felt, or was he simply a manifestation of the damage her tumour was creating within her brain? She had blinked, pushing away the sense of loss she felt, knowing he was not real before deciding, on a whim, to go along with the fantasy instead, at least as far as it would take her. After all, what did it matter now?

  Incredibly, once she had given herself permission to enjoy this imaginary world it had taken flight. Soon she found herself to be the heroine of the story, the saviour of a far distant world and all because she had inherited a beautiful piece of jewellery from her mother. She had played along, wondering just how far-fetched this adventure would get before her mind rejected it. Strangely, even though she knew none of this was real, she found that she had the compulsion to tell this dream man her truth. Maybe it was her mind’s subtle way of reminding itself of her actual reality.

  Sitting in the library, holding his large warm hand in hers, the compulsion to just go with this madness, wherever it would take her, became overwhelming. Why not enjoy the time she had left? So far, her life had only been full of sacrifice and self-denial and possibly now she deserved a bit of romance and adventure. The rest of the day had passed in a swirl of crazy images. He made her look at her world so differently, think about things she had taken for granted, and made her reassess everything she saw. She had found that the more she relaxed into her imagination the easier it was until, at last, she became so totally immersed in it that she no longer questioned it at all and it wasn’t until she was alone in her bed that she began to analyse her day anew and wonder if he would still be there, on the couch, tomorrow. She yawned, stretched and snuggled down into her duvet. No matter what was happening she needed sleep. Tomorrow, she had to be able to perform at her best.

  #

  Eva woke late the next day and it was mid-morning before she popped her head around the living room door. The sun was streaming through the front window, illuminating her face as it burst into a radiant smile when she spotted Myssan sitting on the couch running his hands through his hair and yawing. Over breakfast Myssan bombarded her with questions. He found everything about this world fascinating. He loved mechanical things; however, he had never envisioned anything remotely as sophisticated as the technology he was experiencing here. Light and heat without a flame, transport without physical exertion or beast to pull it, transport that flew, running water in every dwelling, the list went on and on, yet the most unfathomable machine was the boxes with the moving pictures. Even Eva could not explain how they worked.

  During their discussions, he discovered that there was an equivalent of a library’s worth of information within the small box that Eva called her phone, a library that anyone could access at any time. How wonderful! Myssan would have quite happily continued asking questions for the rest of the day but Eva eventually proclaimed that it was time she got ready to go. She looked both nervous and excited as they left the house and walked to the underground. Myssan could tell that today was a momentous day in Eva’s life, a chance to perform with the best, a chance to shine. She had explained to him that since her diagnosis and her Mum dying, she had become isolated from people, not wanting to drag anyone else through the torture of watching someone they cared about suffer and so, as a consequence, she still had her performer’s complimentary ticket to give to Myssan. She had said that it would be really nice to have someone she knew in the audience and Myssan was happy to be invited. If the rehearsal was anything to go by, it would be an amazing experience.

  The city was a totally different place with a tour guide. He felt at ease and able to really take in all the sights without the fear of something unexpected and unpleasant happening. Eva was enthusiastic and exuberant. Today was hers and she was revelling in every moment. Through her eyes, he could see the history, the beauty and the brutality that made up such a large city. He understood that it was home to a wide variety of different cultures which, on the whole, managed to just get on with life. Each culture brought with it a touch of spice to make the resulting dish all the richer.

  Eva dragged him past beautifully crafted places of worship and small dwellings that looked crudely put together but had obviously stood the test of time. Narrow lanes intersected with wide roads and noisy two-wheeled ‘motorbikes’, Eva called them, buzzed in and out of the larger cars and busses. It was noisy, busy and truly thrilling. Myssan viewed it all with wide eyes, trying desperately to drink in every last detail.

  “I think we will have Indian for lunch today,” Eva announced as she led him through the door of an eating establishment. The exotic aromas that assaulted his senses made his mouth water. Eva ordered, and when the dishes arrived they exceeded their promise. The food was spicy, rich, creamy and full of so many flavours that it was like a carnival going off in his mouth. To his surprise Eva did not know what the flavours were. Apparently she did not cook very much; instead, she said it was cheaper to get take out. Myssan’s mind could not comprehend the amount of organisation that went into feeding a city this huge; however, it appeared that it was not only possible but happening every day.

  The rest of the afternoon rushed by in a blur but eventually the short hours of daylight gave way to dusk and the lights appeared, illuminating the roads and shop windows and giving the city a friendlier atmosphere. Ultimately the time for Eva to go to the theatre arrived. Myssan sat himself down in the atrium, assuring Eva that he would be happy to wait here until the show began.

  “Well, goodbye then. See you afterwards,” she said as she edged away, walking backwards all the while, smiling at him, not letting go of his hand.

  She looked so young, so excited and so apprehensive that on an impulse he stepped forward and engulfed her in his arms. “You will be magnificent!” he whispered through their touch. Then holding her by the shoulders at arm's length
he ordered, “Off you go! Time to make your mark on the world.” He gave her a gentle shove and a wave, causing her to giggle, which in turn made his heart contract painfully. Sitting quietly on the bench in the atrium, idly watching people pass, he wondered why fate had led him to this perfect woman at a time when both their lives were in such an upheaval. Stoically, he reasoned that at least now they were both in this thing together.

  As the evening progressed, more and more people passed through the sliding glass doors and the auditorium began to buzz with the sound of cheerful, muted voices. Sitting off to one side, Myssan felt like he was in a quiet back eddy completely separate from the flow of swirling, bubbling humanity and he discovered that he quite liked it. So often he had been the centre of attention, the main attraction, forced to mingle. It was really rather pleasant to watch without having to participate this time.

  Just when he thought that they could not squeeze another person into the large airy space, the lights dimmed and a cheerful bell sounded. He deduced that it was a signal of some sort as people began to make their way towards the theatre doors. Following, clutching his ticket, he was eventually ushered to his seat and as he sank gratefully into the plush red cushions he couldn’t help but feel a communal excited tingle. When the lights dimmed, the orchestra below played their first pure notes and the curtains parted to reveal an empty stage and his anticipation reached a crescendo.

  From the moment the first dancer passed through the spotlight until the grand finale involving all the dancers he was mesmerized. It was a powerful beautiful display of the capability of the human mind and body and he sat enthralled throughout. Eva was magnificent: he could not keep his eyes off her and the stage seemed empty when she was not on it. All too soon, the dancers were lined up, holding hands and bowing to a rapturously cheering audience. A man a few rows away stood and soon everyone was on their feet, clapping so loudly that Myssan’s ears began to ring. He caught glimpses of Eva’s glowing face, a huge grin plastered from ear to ear. He was so glad that she had had this time. It was so life affirming and something she would always cherish. Stupidly, he found he was crying. Whether it for joy or sadness he couldn’t tell, as this poignant moment held both in equal parts.