by TR Cameron
Ruby sighed. “Well, given that it’s literally life or death, I guess I better get underway since I’d at least slightly prefer the former to the latter.” She consoled herself with the amusing fact that if her mother wanted to continue to maintain the secret of Ruby’s heritage, she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about the calling. Heh. She’s gonna be ticked to high heaven when she realizes that.
Chapter Nine
Ruby stepped through the portal that connected her bedroom to her family’s home on Oriceran. The pain that had begun to creep back into her head vanished as if crossing the threshold between planets had scraped it away. A wave of her hand dispelled the opening, and she stretched and yawned, feeling the relief of being completely without a headache since the moment it had started at the Mist. Her sister’s efforts had dulled the ache but not banished it, she now realized. Being free of it was pure pleasure.
Her landing spot was her bedroom, and she moved immediately into the ritual she always used when coming to the magical planet. She visited at least weekly, sometimes more than that, for training with her Mist Elf mentor Keshalla, a woman whose prowess in hand-to-hand fighting was second only to her ability to perform combat magic. A tall wardrobe on the far wall held what Ruby thought of as her Elf clothes, and she quickly changed.
Brown leather pants worn often enough to be soft and supple tucked into knee-high matching boots with laces to hold them in place. A wide leather belt secured a half-sleeved undertunic in black. Metal-ringed holes in two rows throughout its length adorned that item, and she attached a couple of pouches to the back and a pair of sheaths to the sides. Within the latter rested knives with slightly curved blades positioned for a cross-draw. Her overtunic was sleeveless and tight, with laces down the front. It had thin metal strips running through it to protect her from impact and was the brilliant blue of her house, with a silver stripe down each side.
The final element was the sword, the weapon she currently studied. Her Mist Elf mentor had already taught her knives, throwing knives, darts, sticks, and bladed sticks. The single sword was the next-to-last traditional weapon she would learn, and when she’d mastered it, she’d move on to paired swords. She was already training to use the sword and a knife together, in addition to her instruction with the larger blade on its own.
She positioned the sword’s sheath over her back. The holder featured a slit that would allow her to draw the weapon from it cleanly. The pommel stuck up over her shoulder, a warning to anyone who saw it of her martial accomplishment. Only those with the proper training were entitled to display such weapons openly, and any who chose to violate that convention often found themselves tested by others who had earned the right.
Her penultimate task was to pull her hair back into a hasty warrior’s knot, held in place by a pair of thin metal rods. Finally, she let go of the constant thread of magic that powered her disguise, revealing her pointed ears. When she used her power, the tattoos on her bare arms would appear, and in truth, she loved the sight of them. If not for her parents’ desires, she’d flaunt them all the time. Maybe one day. For now, I guess I need to go figure out where I’m being summoned to.
She didn’t have a better plan than seeking out Keshalla and asking her. The woman was unique among the Mist Elves Ruby had met, more mystical than most but more martial than any mystic. She’d been very lucky to be chosen as her student since her mentor accepted only one at a time. Training when together was only part of Ruby’s obligations. She was expected to continue on her own while on Earth and had done so diligently, both in magic and melee. Disappointing her teacher was not something a smart person did.
She stepped out of the house into the small village, one of many loosely affiliated groupings of Mist Elves that resided in the mountains. They only ever called them “the mountains,” not caring if others existed beyond their lands. They lived high up but had plateaus for farming, forests for game, and rivers for fish and water. The higher one climbed, the less integrated the village was with the rest. The mystics occupied the highest part of the pinnacle, literally living in the mist for substantial portions of the year.
This particular spot was about two-thirds of the way up, still low enough to desire interaction with others, but high enough that its residents possessed a keen sense of individualism. Both those qualities had led the two oldest families in the village to create the Mist Elf foothold on Earth, and most of the rest who had come over to join them on the other planet had been from lower elevations.
Keshalla had received a formal invitation to live in MountHaven, of course, but was decidedly unlikely to accept it. By her declaration, she was uninterested in Earth since she still had so much to learn and experience on Oriceran. The idea of the other woman standing on the Ely Strip was so ridiculous that Ruby couldn’t picture it.
Five other homes created a rough oval on the plateau. Low grass covered the center area, but it was otherwise empty except for boulders that no one had ever moved, sitting here and there on the central lawn. The time difference meant that it was barely past noon here although it would be well into Magic City’s evening. She took several steps toward the middle, her hands on her knife hilts as she looked around suspiciously. Fewer people than she’d expected were in evidence. One figure darted away at the edge of her vision, a child to judge by the laughter. At least someone’s enjoying themselves. She checked the sun’s position to confirm that she was at the right place at the right time. Where is everyone? More importantly, where is Keshalla?
Both questions received answers as a tall woman stepped into view on the grassy field’s opposite side. She was dressed as Ruby was, but in crimson and black, the colors of fire and soil. Her hair was inky, a rarity among the Mist Elves, offering a high contrast to her pale skin. She carried a frankly astonishing number of weapons strapped to her clothes, and two pommels stuck up over her shoulders. She called, “Welcome back, minari. It is a momentous day.”
Ruby nodded and slowly advanced toward her, knowing where this was headed. “Indeed, shenai. Are you prepared to guide me on the path of my calling?” Faces peered out of windows in the houses around, watching but also providing them a measure of privacy.
She spread her arms wide. “Such a service must be earned, young one.”
Ruby’s lips curved in a smile. “I wouldn’t want to damage you, ancient one.”
The other woman’s laugh was like the joyful chime of a bell. “Do your best. Manage a hit, and I will give you a clue to lead you where you wish to go immediately. Fail, and you train first until the sun goes down.”
Ruby gave a dramatic sigh, having expected something like this the moment she knew she’d have to ask the other woman for help. It was test after test with her, or maybe one long one that marked their relationship’s boundaries. “Must we?”
Her mentor lifted a hand, palm up, then curved the fingers inward in an invitation. “We must.”
Ruby charged, drawing her sword from over her shoulder as she ran. A thin sheath of force flowed from her hand down the weapon and covered its sharp edge. It would still hurt if it connected but wouldn’t cut or pierce. That was as safe as her mentor would permit, now that she had achieved, in her words, “A barely adequate level of proficiency.”
Keshalla opted for her knives, unsheathing them in a cross-draw and spinning them once as she shifted into a battle stance: left leg forward, body pivoted perpendicular to Ruby’s line of approach, knees bent, front dagger guarding high, rear one positioned over her stomach. It was a balanced position from which her teacher could defend or attack without giving a hint of her intention before she started to move.
Ruby’s preferred tactic in such a situation would be a fast pass to her opponent’s backhand, spinning as she arrived to whip her sword around in a horizontal blow. It would force the other woman to at least turn, which might break her balance enough for a follow-up. The problem was that Keshalla had taught her that approach, so she’d expect it. She could use illusion against an opponent who wa
sn’t a Mist Elf, as she had with the men in the casino, but her mentor would be ready for that, too. So, let’s try something a little more brazen.
She waved her free hand in a fast arc, dispatching a line of force magic at her foe’s feet. Despite the invisible nature of the power, Keshalla skipped over it with ease. While she was in the air, Ruby smashed directly into the older Mist Elf, sent her tumbling backward, and continued her rush. Her sword slashed down at the other woman’s head.
Ruby saw the grin on her teacher’s face for an instant before the magic-assisted roll that brought her back to her feet hid it. Keshalla used magic as naturally as breathing, subtly increasing her speed and strength with minimal bursts of power. It caused Ruby’s strike to miss, and she barely managed to slip a force shield in the way of the sidekick that slammed into her and sent her flying sideways. While the magical barrier stole a lot of the blow’s power, it didn’t invalidate the laws of physics. It would have taken a much stronger and layered shield to absorb all the kinetic energy transferred during the attack. It simply spread the impact over a larger space and prevented broken ribs but failed to keep her from moving.
A well-angled force blast against the ground got her upright in time for her feet to land on the dirt. She skidded backward, focusing on keeping her balance and completely aware that the other woman was charging in, the naked metal in her fists glinting in the sunlight. Ruby let her eyes go soft and made sure she kept Keshalla’s entire body in view. A front kick led the way, and she moved aside in a smooth step to avoid it, knowing it was almost certainly a feint. The looping overhand stab at her head with the back knife wasn’t the real danger either, although it required her to shift the sword slightly to deflect it, lifting the weapon to meet the blow. That opened her for the primary threat, the left-hand knife jabbing in at her seemingly unprotected stomach.
She twisted away in case the force shield she’d wrapped around the target area wouldn’t be sufficient. The feel of Keshalla’s magic peeling hers away to give the blade access confirmed the wisdom of that choice. It scraped across the metal in her clothing and failed to penetrate. She reversed the pivot and leapt, rotating her back knee across her body in a blurred strike at the other woman’s chest. Keshalla effortlessly danced aside. One moment she was there, and the blow was about to connect. The next she wasn’t, and worse, Ruby had lost sight of her.
Not because of the speed of her movement, but because of the shadow magic the other woman had dropped over Ruby’s head like a hood. It took only a half-second to marshal her power to blast it away. She dove forward and to the right as she did, toward the open space she’d seen before everything went dark. Her shoulder roll brought her smoothly up to her feet. She kept running in that direction but whipped the sword around her back, pommel high and blade down. It intercepted one knife with a satisfying clank, but the other thrown weapon slammed into her back. The magic her teacher had infused it with made it hit like a bag of bricks, and Ruby went down into the dirt.
She was already scrambling up, ready for more, but Keshalla called, “Enough.” The victor held out her palms, the blades leapt into them, and she slid them back into their sheaths. “So. Time to train. Your calling can wait until tomorrow.”
Ruby nodded. “As you say, shenai.”
A broad grin spread across the other woman’s face. “As it should be, minari.”
Chapter Ten
Their training had been long and intensive, and when it ended Ruby had spent another hour discussing the calling with Keshalla. The older Mist Elf knew more stories about those who had undertaken the venamisha, but it still wasn’t much to go on in the end. Each person’s experience appeared to be different, with no consistency in the tales except for an undercurrent of warning. Some never returned, and some returned broken. Of those who had claimed success, some had access to previously unheard of magics and became teachers, increasing the knowledge and abilities of the Mist Elves.
Others rejoined society with grand ideas that had changed the course of Mist Elf history. The first mystic had only become so after her journey. Ruby thought that she’d probably enjoy being a mystic—for maybe a year, year and a half tops—and only if she came back with some marvelous brewing knowledge and created an Oriceran craft brewery, like the Benedictine monastery on the outskirts of Magic City. It seems unlikely that I would get some kind of spiritual calling that will kill me if I don’t obey merely to create the world’s most wonderful stout.
Keshalla had shaken her head and clucked her tongue at Ruby’s preparations. “You’re not going on vacation, girl,” she’d chastised, then portaled them both to her home farther up the mountain. Her mentor had no neighbors and chose a solitary life except for her teaching and occasional good deeds toward the other Mist Elves living nearby. However, the armory in her house would have put a castle to shame. Blades and bows covered three of the four walls, from punch daggers and pistol crossbows to two-handed swords that she’d need magic to lift and longbows that were at least as tall as her. The last wall held shelves and cabinets, and it was to those her teacher had gone to retrieve the things she felt Ruby couldn’t do without.
Now, after a solid night’s sleep, Ruby was ready. She had everything from the previous day, plus a good deal more. A sheath strapped to each calf held a throwing knife. Keshalla had informed her that she’d need to have new boots made to accommodate the blades in the future. A fine chain shirt now rested between her under- and over- tunics, providing additional protection against edged weapons. A pouch on her lower back’s right side contained two potions in metal flasks, one healing and one energy. One on her left side’s lower back held travel rations, dense food bars that could keep her going for days. The outside of each thigh had a metal canteen full of water attached to it. Finally, the older woman had given her an ebony amulet on a matching chain that rested around her neck. The proper command, “kagji,” would create a powerful shield to protect her without drawing upon her magic.
Ruby was as ready as she could be. She repeated the step out of her house’s front door from the day before. The sun was rising over the horizon, and everything was still and serene. A deep inhalation followed by a slow exhalation centered her for the adventure ahead, and as she closed her eyes, she opened herself to the magic spinning around her as Keshalla had instructed. It was a matter of letting her internal barriers open a touch so her power could taste the currents flowing in the planet’s very air. She sensed the calling and instinctively knew which way to go. Damn it. Of course. She turned in the proper direction, and when she opened her eyes again, they confirmed her expectation. Up the mountain. Why isn’t it ever down the mountain? Or “Go to the nearest Starbucks?” That’d be nice. She growled, “All right, Ruby, quit whining and start moving,” then obeyed her orders.
The climb hadn’t been particularly arduous, but Ruby felt it in her legs by the time she reached the spot where the ambient magic directed her to leave the path and head out onto a small plateau on the right-hand side. It led about thirty feet to the edge, and she looked down to see a drop of several hundred feet. Beside her, a thin but consistent trickle of water dropped to splash into a small lake below. Probably not deep enough to save me if I fell, so maybe I’ll back up a little. Heights weren’t a problem for her, but there was no point being unnecessarily reckless. Only a necessary amount of recklessness is required, she thought in Keshalla’s voice and laughed.
Out loud, she said, “Okay, then, what’s the deal? I’m here. Hello?” No response was forthcoming, and she opened her inner barriers a little more. A faint sense of something came from the mountain, and she followed the water’s path as it curved back toward the stone wall. The rivulet wasn’t deeper than her foot, nor wider than it, where it emerged from the rock. Still, something was definitely back there, a presence or a summons, maybe. Clearly, she had to get through the barrier in front of her.
Ruby explored the area with her magical senses, opening the inner barriers even more, and received only the same co
nfirmation that a mystery lay behind the rock wall before her. She walked the length of it, trailing her hands along it in case an illusion compromised her vision, but found nothing. She sighed and called, “Really? I thought you’d be more subtle.” Doubtless she imagined the low laughter that seemed to echo through the wind rippling across the plateau. “Fine, then. Have it your way.”
She returned to the spot where the water emerged from the stone. It was a rough triangular hole, with a crack running several inches upward from the apex. The simplest solution would be to blast the area with force magic until whatever was weakest broke away, but the possibility it would be the ground under her feet that failed first argued against that plan. She found a couple of rocks of the right size in the stream bed and made sure they were wet before jamming them tightly into the small vertical crevice. Then she backed up, created a narrow wall of force in front of her in case, and summoned flame to an upraised palm. She directed it in a thin line into the rocks she’d chosen, causing them to heat up rapidly. The water turned to steam, providing extra pressure, and the crack grew bigger with a loud snap. Shrapnel bounced off the magical barrier that protected her.
She nodded in satisfaction and repeated the process several times until enough room existed that she could crawl through without taking a bath while doing so. She packed flames into a ball of force and rolled it into the opening, revealing a tunnel beyond it that she would also have to crawl through. A force push sent it rolling further to show a larger area, although she couldn’t make out anything other than its existence from where she was. Okay, then, ready or not, here I come. She wrapped herself in a force shield that extended an inch from her body to avoid getting dirty, muddy, or otherwise injured and crawled through the low tunnel.
