(What?) Jael peered around in the gloom for some sign of a "fellow rigger." The place appeared utterly deserted. (What do you mean? Have you captured someone else with your lying tricks?)
(I did not capture him,) Jarvorus answered. (The dragons did. He is right there in front of you. His name is Hodakai. Ask him how trustworthy the dragons are!)
Jael suddenly realized what Jarvorus meant: the glowing vessel. Stepping closer, she saw that it looked like a large, multifaceted crystal, glowing from the inside. It looked alive; it was slowly changing shape, with a writhing kind of movement that made its facets shift like living mirrors. Peering carefully within, she saw a small figure of shadow moving somewhat more energetically, inside the glowing light. There was something striking about that shadow; it had a flickering, firelike presence—as if it were not shadow, but a flame of darkness. (What in the world?) she murmured.
WHO'S THERE? A harsh-sounding voice echoed all around her. Startled, she glanced around. The shadow-flame danced and pointed a dark limb in her direction. What's going on? shouted the voice.
Before Jael could answer, Jarvorus spoke aloud. I've brought you company, Hodakai! A rigger! Someone to talk to.
The shadow-flame contorted and squirmed. Its voice sounded a little less harsh, a little more . . . human. A rigger? What rigger?
A rigger and her ship! said Jarvorus. Look, Hodakai! Look!
It took a moment for the twitching shadow to settle into a stable shape. Jael realized suddenly that it looked like an abstract figure of a man. It seemed to be staring at her, and past her. She was aware of her ship glimmering faintly behind her. My name is Jael, she found herself saying aloud, and her words seemed lost in a cottony haze even as she spoke. Are you human? Are you really a rigger?
The figure jutted forward and seemed to grow in size. Oh, my—! It jabbed at her with a shape that was vaguely like a hand. I'll be damned! You're the one, aren't you? The one they've all been talking about—
Jael, she repeated.
Yes—Jael. I'm surprised you told me. Everyone thinks names are very important around here. How'd you get caught? You're Windrush's . . . friend . . . aren't you? I knew it. Don't tell me this iffling is your—
It's not an iffling, it's a fake! Jael tried to cry, but couldn't quite.
The creature didn't seem to be listening, anyway. I'm stuck here thanks to the dragons, myself, so I'm not exactly what you would call a "friend" of any of them. They didn't even give me a fighting chance—and they killed my buddy, too. But you—you got caught by an iffling!
It's NOT an iffling . . . ! Jael managed to say, through the molasses of the spell.
(Jael, don't—!) Jarvorus whispered urgently, in a preoccupied voice from somewhat farther away. Whatever he was doing, he wasn't controlling her actions quite as closely as before.
What? Hodakai suddenly became still. What do you mean?
Jael forced the words out. It's a false-iffling! It did something to the real iffling, and tricked me.
The shadow-flame peered at her, and she heard astonishment in his voice. That's . . . very strange. That's exactly what Windrush said! But I wasn't sure if I should believe him. I wonder—
WINDRUSH! Jael cried, suddenly realizing that he had mentioned the dragon's name twice now. You know Windrush? Her heart leaped, even in the binding of the spell. Have you talked to him? Where is he? She fought to get the words out. WHERE IS HE? PLEASE!
Hodakai pulled back, startled. Well, hey—yeah. I mean—I know him after a fashion. He talks to me from a distance once in a while. Hodakai seemed to angle a nervous glance one way, then another, as though afraid someone might be listening. I expect he's pretty busy right now—with the war and all. Lot of fighting going on. But he's sure been heated up about looking for you, I'll tell you.
Looking for me?
Hodakai seemed to shiver. Well, he knew you were coming, apparently. But they haven't been doing too well—not that I feel much sympathy for them, mind you. He's been after me to help, but I . . . I didn't want to get into it, really—and anyway, this—whatever this iffling-thing is—
It's not an iffling! Jael repeated.
Right—I got that, you don't have to keep saying it. Anyway, I thought it was an iffling, and it said that Windrush was going to make a slave of you, and me.
That's crazy! Jael cried.
Okay, but I believed it at first, Hodakai said defensively. How was I to know? Of course, it also said I should listen to Rent. Now, Windrush says Rent is a goddamn liar, which I admit is certainly possible. So I don't know anymore what to—
Wait, you're not making any—what are you talking about?
Hodakai fell silent. He twitched, and seemed to be looking past Jael. She glanced backward. For an instant, she thought she saw the glimmering form of a sharp-fanged animal, the shape that Jarvorus had taken at the Pool of Visions. Its eyes flickered briefly; then it flowed back into a blur of light, then vanished. But she had a strange feeling of a force shifting around her; it had done something to the binding spell. But Jarvorus was no longer occupying her thoughts; this might be her only chance. Jael turned back to Hodakai. Tell me how I can reach Windrush! she hissed urgently.
Even as she spoke, she felt a sudden, creeping chill, like a physical illness violating her from within. She shivered, and realized that the invisible molasses in which she was trapped was hardening around her. An image came to her mind, irresistibly, as though drawn by the power of Jarvorus's binding spell: an image of glacial ice forming to encase her in a clear, hard, impenetrable cell. As the image formed in her mind, a great mass of ice appeared physically, in the time it took to complete the thought—crystallizing out of nowhere to surround her in the cavern, encapsulating her in the Flux.
Scrawwwww—Jayl! wailed the thin, distant voice of Ed, barely reaching her through the barrier. His cry was echoed by Ar's, even more remote.
Hodakai's shadow-flame shook in astonishment. Ice! That's incredible! What were those voices? Do you have shipmates? What happened to your net? Why can't I see it?
Damaged, Jael whispered, too shocked to say more. Jarvorus, what have you—? Ar? Ed? Can you hear me? Their voices were gone now. She was completely encased in the ice: Jarvorus's binding spell made solid and tangible. To Hodakai, she cried desperately, Please! Help me reach Windrush!
The crystal-shape that held Hodakai altered shape in slow surges, and he flickered within it. Reach Windrush? You can't reach him! Look at yourself! You're a prisoner here—just like me!
Jael stared at him through the thick layer of ice. She could not so much as gesture with a hand. It was as if the very currents of the Flux had frozen around her. Prisoner . . . she murmured. Of course. Had she supposed that Jarvorus would let her go? He seemed to be gone now, but she had no hope of escaping. Only her thoughts were free.
I'm not saying that Windrush couldn't come here, of course, Hodakai continued. Probably not in body, though.
What do you mean?
Well, he does seem to get around pretty well through the underrealm.
Jael struggled to comprehend.
Hodakai flexed in his vessel. The underrealm. You know it? It's—hard to explain. You might think of it as the next level down in the Flux, below the ordinary reach of your net. That's the best I can explain it. It's where the dragons and . . . others . . . do their magic. Where they draw the power for spells. They can travel in it, too—in spirit, I mean.
You mean—in thought? Can you do that?
Well—mostly just to talk to Rent, Hodakai admitted. I'm imprisoned here in this jar. I might be a spirit, but . . . I'm pretty well stuck here for eternity, as far as I can see.
Jael stared at Hodakai, and his vessel. Do you mean, she whispered, that you are only spirit now? You have no physical . . . Her words trailed off.
Hodakai trembled in his jar.
Jael was shocked into silence. She thought of his words, and finally asked, Who's . . . Rent?
Hodakai guffawed unhappily. Rent?
He's a rigger, too. Do you believe it?
Rigger? Jael asked dumbly.
Or was. He's a mean son-of-a-bitch, though. He's not . . . like this, either. He has a body, courtesy of Tar-skel. I expect you'll be meeting him soon enough.
Jael shuddered.
Don't ask me what they're planning, though, Hodakai added. I have no idea.
They—?
Rent. Tar-skel. The drahls. The . . . false-ifflings, I guess. They're all in this together.
Jael closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of everything that had gone wrong. She was not just overwhelmed, she was angry, she was furious . . . about Jarvorus and her captivity, about bringing Ar and Ed into this, about letting Windrush down . . . and the rest of the dragons, even if she had no idea what it was they needed of her . . .
And I guess you could say I've been stuck in the middle of it, too, ever since Kan-Kon and I hit the Flux thinking, Hey!—let's try something a little different this time—
If only she could talk to Ar, or Ed! She ached for their presence. She could just barely sense Ed, outside the ice, staring in at her . . .
—and damn-diddly, was that a mistake—
And now she thought she sensed Ar, farther away, whispering frantically. To her? She remembered the Pool of Visions, when he'd gotten a cry through to her, too late. She strained to listen, and thought she heard the words, Pay attention . . . ! But now Hodakai was drowning him out again.
—had us completely helpless, lambs to the slaughter, and then some ifflings came and prattled on about prophecy, but a lot of good that did us—they grabbed me and I didn't even see them kill Kan-Kon. But Rent said they did.
Something clicked in her mind. WHAT did you just say? she cried.
The shadow-flame twitched. What do you mean? When?
Just now! Who did you say you were with?
The dragons? My partner?
Your partner!
Kan-Kon was his name. You wouldn't know him. That was a long time ago, and he got killed by the dragons—not even saved here like me—which, mind you, is probably just as w—
KAN-KON? Your partner was KAN-KON?
Yes, you wouldn't—Hodakai broke off suddenly, and his flickering form leaned toward her, causing the shape of his prison to distort. Wait a minute! What are you saying?
Jael heard a rushing like a waterfall in her head. Is your name—She groped helplessly in her memory, before retrieving Kan-Kon's partner's name. Hoddy? Is that your name? Hoddy?
The spirit flinched as though stung. How do you—how do you know—?
Of course! she thought. Hodakai. Besides, how many captured riggers could there be in the dragon realm? If only Kan-Kon had known that his friend was not dead!
You KNOW him? You know Kan-Kon? You mean, he made it out ALIVE? Hodakai made a series of little squeaking sounds. But Rent said he was dead! Rent said the dragons killed him! How can this—oh my God—!
The dragons let Kan-Kon go! Jael cried. But HE thought they killed you!
But then—why did Rent say—? Hodakai seemed utterly beside himself, bewildered and overjoyed. How do YOU know him? Is he coming to get me—?
He thinks you're dead! Don't you understand? He told us the whole story! He had no idea you'd survived! Jael hesitated, unsure what to make of Hodakai's weeping sounds. I'm sorry. I'm sure he would have come, if he'd known. He . . . he doesn't rig anymore. But he got us a ship to come here.
But where—? Hodakai gasped. How—?
Jael caught her breath. He . . . runs a shipping company. On Cargeeling.
Cargeeling! Hodakai wept. That's my home! That's where I came from! Oh gods—that's where I wanted to be buried!
Jael reeled, remembering what Kan-Kon had said, that Hoddy's ashes were, in fact, buried on Cargeeling. But she couldn't bring herself to say that.
Hodakai seemed lost in his own thoughts now, overcome by bitter tears. His words were muffled, but he was crying, Rent! You lied to me! You lied, you miserable son-of-a-bitch . . . !
As she listened to Hodakai weeping, she found herself wondering if any of this really mattered now, anyway. And where had Jarvorus gone?
Hodakai suddenly began laughing to himself. And I believed him! Oh, you fool, Hoddy—you damn fool!
Jael broke in. She needed this man's help. She had no one else to turn to. Hodakai! Hoddy—please!
The spirit slowly quieted to a mournful silence.
Hodakai—I came to help a friend, she said urgently. A friend who needs me—who helped me—whose father helped me!
The dragon? You mean Windrush?
Yes, Windrush.
I've never heard of a dragon helping anyone . . .
They let Kan-Kon go, when the iffling asked them to. I'm sorry they didn't let you go, too. Please—will you help me? As a friend of Kan-Kon's?
Kan-Kon, Hodakai whispered.
Jael pressed desperately. As a fellow . . . human? You remember, don't you, what it was like to be—?
I remember, damn you! Ask the DRAGONS about it! Hodakai hissed.
Jael was stunned by Hodakai's outburst. But of course, he had good reason. Look, I don't know exactly what—some dragons have done to you, or why, she stammered. But I'll bet they were under the . . . Enemy. Tar-skel.
Hodakai shook. That's what Windrush said . . .
Believe him! Believe ME! she begged. There are dragons here you can trust, and Windrush is one of them!
Hodakai snorted, but with a certain hesitancy.
Jael realized that there was probably no way to convince him, except by telling him her whole story, as she had told it to Kan-Kon. It would take precious time. But what else could she do? What could she accomplish as a prisoner here? If she had any hope at all, it was to persuade Hodakai to be on her side. Shall I tell you why? she whispered. Will you give me a chance to make you believe?
Yes! she heard, a distant whisper. Was that Ar?
The shadow-flame gave a quivering shrug.
Jael stared at him. I'll take that as a yes. I'll tell, and you decide.
Tell, sighed Hodakai.
All right. Here it is, then. Jael drew a breath. I don't know about you, but when I wandered into the mountain realm, I didn't actually expect to find dragons.
Neither did I! Hodakai whimpered.
Jael nodded. Well, I was lucky. The dragon I met was one named Highwing. She closed her eyes, feeling a rush of sorrow, and adrenaline, as she remembered. And that, she murmured, was when I learned, not just that dragons are real, but that there are dragons who are to be trusted . . . who are friends . . . whom it's worth risking your life for. . . .
* * *
It took a long time to tell the whole story: Highwing's offer of friendship, over her own objections, and his help in casting out her own inner demons; her horror in returning to the realm and finding him condemned to death for befriending her; and Windrush's and the ifflings' cooperation in helping her to save him. By the time she reached the end of her story—her terrifying rescue of Highwing from a fiery death in normal-space, and his subsequent death here in this realm, she was completely drained by the storm of longing and joy and grief that the memories brought back to her.
She was barely aware of her listener, his shadowy head cocked toward her. When he spoke, his voice was slow and troubled. Is all this true? he asked plaintively, but somehow with a clearer voice than she had heard before.
She nodded. Her own voice was scarcely audible, even to her. Will you help me?
I don't really know if I can, he said slowly. He hesitated, as though drawing a breath. But if I can . . . I guess I will.
For Kan-Kon? she whispered.
He sounded as if he were going to cry. For . . . Kan-Kon, yes. And for . . . you . . . and your friends.
Chapter 33
Prisoner of Magic
AR COULD find no way to break through the barrier to Jael. Even before that demonic imposter of an iffling had enveloped her in a cocoon of energy, he'd been able to manage only glimp
ses of her presence in the net. And then he'd been dragged along, helpless to intervene, as she and the false-iffling had carried them to this cavern, apparently a prison for captured rigger-spirits. No one had paid much attention to him, or to Ed—and probably for good reason. They seemed unable to take any action whatever to help Jael. He had no idea what had become of the true-iffling.
Now he could only gaze in horror at his shipmate, encased in a block of ice. Ironically, he could see her more clearly now, though the barrier between them was stronger than ever. If only he could at least take some action to move the ship. But in the fragmented net, it seemed that Jael effectively had ship-control; and she was now completely immobilized, apparently unable even to see him. Could she hear him, though? Ar had tried to get a shout through—to alert her to what this being, Hodakai, was saying—that he was the former shipmate of Kan-Kon. What a terrible irony: that they had found a potential friend here, and he was a prisoner too!
Never in his life had Ar felt so frustrated. He kept pushing and tugging at his end of the net, trying to jostle the ship loose, trying to alter the image. But the Flux resisted his every effort; the trap was too strong.
The only hope he could find—and he was determined to find hope, no matter what—was in the chance that this Hodakai could help them, perhaps by calling Windrush or other dragons. It would require winning Hodakai to their side, and Hodakai clearly disliked the dragons a great deal. Ar could well empathize—he remembered the terror of the Tar-skel dragons—but Hodakai needed to be shown that not all dragons were like that.
Shall I tell you? Jael was asking.
Yes! Ar cried frantically. Whether Jael heard or not, he couldn't tell, but in any event, she began to tell her story.
As he listened, it seemed to Ar that Hodakai was coming around. But that still left the question: What could be done from here? Was there anything that he hadn't yet thought of, Ar wondered, anything that he and Ed could do? It seemed hopeless; and yet he remembered a time, years ago, en route to Vela Oasis, when he and Jael had been off course, kept from their proper heading by a barrier of ice; and it was Ed who had found the solution, Ed who had broken through. Ed! he whispered, trying to reach the parrot without interrupting the rapport that was growing between Jael and Hodakai. Ed!
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