“Ya only said one more.”
The cabby climbed onto his perch. “Ya been here a couple chron turns. ’Sides, the gent, Mr. Wolloh, pays me good. Gotta go. He’s waitin’. Get yourself gone for the constee finds ya hangin’ ’round. Thanks, kid. Hey, the gent’s here another couple o’ turnin’s. Check here same time tomorrow. If he decides to eat over yonder, we can do the same deal. What d’ ya say?”
Stebben pocketed his earnings. “I’ll be here. Thanks.” He ducked behind a tree as the cab rolled away and halted at the restaurant door. The cabby helped the osprey man inside.
As the cabby slapped the reins and the horse trotted up the hill to The Grande Hotel, a strong hand squeezed Stebben’s shoulder. His heart plummeted to his stomach.
“We meet at last, Stebben Stol.” The voice, deep and dangerous, leached whatever will he might have had to take fight right out of his body. He couldn’t move, nor could he find a voice in which to respond.
“You will remain calm and quiet.” The hand slid down his arm, the fingers tightened in a painful grip.
Held captive by the Mocendi’s power, he walked a dream-walker’s walk down the hill and in the front doors of TiCeed’s least reputable lodging establishment. Unable to speak but aware of every movement, sight, and sound around him, Stebben noted the scantily clad women and girls, the smell of tobacco smoke, the men in various stages of drunkenness. Vintrusie trotted him up the stairs to the second and top floor and into a room that smelled of sweat and something more subtle that he didn’t recognize.
With deft movements, the Mocendi tied him to a wooden chair and peered down at him. “You have led me quite a chase and wasted several turnings of my valuable time. Needless to say, I am out of charity with you, so don’t try anything stupid. I might forget that I have orders to deliver you alive. Now, I intend to get some rest. At the rise of the sun, we will rendezvous with my ship and make haste for TreBlaya.”
Stebben’s heart heaved at the very mention of the home planet of the Mocendi League.
Vintrusie smiled a smile so cold that a mist formed in the air as he exhaled. “I see you have heard of my home. You will, I think, find it interesting.” More mist floated from his mouth as he spoke and snaked its way around Stebben’s neck.
A numbing sensation overwhelmed his body. His mind screamed a warning. The DiMensioner touched the center of his brow.
His head fell forward.
A chill crept down Wolloh’s neck as his cab halted outside the hotel. Keeping his thoughts in check, he descended and allowed the cabby to escort him up the steps and into the lobby.
“I’ll need you at first light. Don’t be late.”
“Yes, sir. At first light.” The young cabby hurried from the hotel.
Wolloh had reserved rooms on the first floor, one for his personal use as well as those on either side and across the hall. Privacy was key. He remained for several moments, his key poised to enter the keyhole. A soft buzz made him step back. Etching a symbol in the air with his good hand, he murmured a series of phrases.
“Clear away what does not belong,
Make it clean and make it strong.
Set up wards that will protect,
And all that’s negative deflect.”
“Seal and Secure.” Satisfied that the Mocendi’s handy work had been destroyed, he entered his room and crossed to the window. Standing to one side obscured in shadow, he observed two figures walking along the promenade toward the more unsavory part of Harbour Street. Vintrusie had the boy.
Wolloh allowed the Mocendi’s mind touch to penetrate the wards. He began to hum. The tune obscured his actions and his thoughts. Creating the illusion that he was preparing for bed, he turned down the oil lamp and opened a window. A chair by the bed offered him a place to wait out Vintrusie’s telepathic intrusion into his space. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. At last, the mind touch withdrew. Still he remained in a sleep-like mind set. Another touch trembled and faded. The wards settled around the room. It was time.
Picking up his cane, he waved a hand above its crystal knob. A pinpoint of light at its center expanded into the image of Vintrusie’s room. Stebben tied to a chair came into focus. Vintrusie stretched out on the bed asleep. Wolloh tapped the crystal. The image faded. He stood and stowed the cane at the back of the closet. At the open window, he inhaled deeply, luxuriating in the sea air. The dampness after weeks in the desert felt healing. His exhale sent him on osprey wings soaring above TiCeed.
Flight! What a gift. He longed to glide over the open sea and disappear into the night. The life of a boy, especially a boy from Roahymn, held him back. Grateful for the slight cloud cover, he swooped toward Vintrusie’s lodgings and landed on a small balcony outside an empty room.
A brief telepathic exploration assured him the Mocendi’s sleep state was not feigned. Shifting to human form, he slipped into the room and made his way to the door. Shrouded in a cloak of invisibility, he stepped into the hall, unlocked Vintrusie’s door with a wave of a hand, and silently closed it behind him. Nothing in the room stirred. He bent over his adversary and touched his forehead, sending him into a trance-like sleep.
Now he moved more quickly. With a wave of his hand the ropes securing Stebben to the chair fell to the floor. A whispered word and a tap on his forehead brought him to wakefulness. His eyes widened. Wolloh held his gaze with his good eye and tried telepathy.
“Can you hear me?”
The boy nodded.
Wolloh gave a brief smile of approval. “You will leave here and hide in The Wobery. I will find you at Mid-Turning. Watch for my cab. Understood?”
Stebben nodded again, then glanced at the bed and back. “What about—”
“Go, boy. I have work to do.” Wolloh stepped aside.
Stebben let himself out of the room.
Wolloh sat in his vacated chair and observed the man on the bed. He had a choice to make. Vintrusie assumes I am infirm and unable to practice the arts of High DiMensionery. I can allow the myth to continue, or I can make it clear that I am a High DiMensioner on all levels. If I do so, I may become a target for the Mocendi League. Clawed fingers massaged his left temple. Reputation has an ability to blossom and become bigger than life. This may be my best protection and the boy’s . A brief smile pulled at his disfigured mouth. Moving to the edge of the bed, he touched Vintrusie’s forehead.
The man moaned. Dark eyes flew open. His mouth twisted in a grimace of frustration spiced with a sprinkling of fear.
Ravaged profile to the Mocendi, Wolloh sat down on the bed and snapped his fingers. The oil lamp by the bed sprang to life, casting its warm glow on the rippled scarring on his cheek, the lips trapped in a howl of pain, the opaque eye. “I am, Vintrusie, one of only two who have attained the Order of Esprow’s rank of High DiMensioner. Had I been wiser as a young man, I would now be a VarTerel. Do not assume my infirmities lessen my skills or my power.” He leaned closer. “You, on the other hand, are new to the rank of DiMensioner, and your Mocendi training leaves your power flawed.”
Straightening, he folded his hands in his lap. “Since you are young and inexperienced, I am going to give you a choice. If you discontinue your pursuit of Stebben Stol and leave DerTah immediately, I will allow you to maintain your level of skill. If, however, you choose to interfere with the boy in any way, I will send you back to your master void of power and physically diminished.”
Vintrusie blinked and fought against his inability to move.
Wolloh rose. “With the setting of DerTah’s third moon, you will regain mobility and voice. I suggest you pay your bill and leave TiCeed as fast you are able. Rest well.”
Osprey wings carried him through the window. The clouds had dispersed and the sky glowed. Wolloh soared upward, basking in the beauty of the ocean bathed in moonbeams.
Stebben sped through the streets and alleyways until he was deep in The Wobery. Ducking under an arch, he sprinted across one of the few open areas in the entire ghetto. DerTah�
�s three moons caravanned overhead. He had learned that the occasional time when they were all seen together in the sky was called Tri-Nular, the apex of the night turning. He squeezed between two buildings and scuttled toward a dirt track that traversed the most wretched part of The Wobery. Pausing at the corner, he listened intently. Assured he was alone, he jogged toward three derelict warehouses, darted around the corner of the least decrepit, and clambered up a rusty ladder to the roof.
Lifting his face to the sky, he watched a large bird catch an updraft and sail aloft, a single silhouette against the blue central moon. A longing to lift into flight nudged him to shape shift. Reader’s words of warning whispered through his mind. He hurried over the rooftop and dropped to his hands and knees. Crawling beneath buckling boards, he was soon snuggled in a blanket in his hide-away. Reasoning that the osprey man would not let Vintrusie hurt him and tired beyond belief, he dropped into exhausted slumber.
He woke with a start to find the Mocendi peering at him through the opening to his rooftop corner. Strong hands gripped his ankles. Stebben kicked and squirmed, but to no avail. Vintrusie hauled him into the light. He glanced up at the sky and realized he had slept the morning away. It was already close to mid-turning. If he wanted to meet the osprey man, he had to escape.
Vintrusie yanked him to standing. Stebben kicked, connected with his shin, pulled his arm free, and shot toward the ladder. By the time he reached it, his enemy stood in front of it, arms folded and face set in an ugly mask. Not taking his eyes off him, Stebben backed up.
“I don’t want to become a Mocendi.” He took another step back. “Please leave me alone.”
Vintrusie took a menacing step forward. “You, my young friend, do not have a choice, and I don’t have time to argue.” He raised a hand and pointed at the center of Stebben’s chest.
A light flashed and the figure of a man, leaning on an ironwood cane, materialized between them.
“Out of my way, Wolloh Espyro.” Vintrusie moved to push him aside. Stebben scramble backward.
The High DiMensioner held his ground. “I warned you to leave the boy alone. It seems you do not believe that I can strip you of your powers.” The crystal knob on the cane began to glow.
Vintrusie narrowed his eyes. “Keep that away from me, or I will harm the boy.”
The osprey man waved a hand in Stebben’s direction. A humming sound surrounded him. Reaching out, he discovered a wall of tingling energy.
Wolloh’s unblemished cheek came into view. “You are safe, boy.” He turned his head and focused his good eye on the Mocendi.
“Leave now, Vygel Vintrusie, and you may do so with your power intact.”
Vintrusie’s face flushed red with anger. “Give me the boy, and I will let you live.”
Wolloh snapped his fingers. A ball of light shot from the crystal, engulfed the Mocendi, turned to a sickening shade of gray, and vanished. Vintrusie dropped to his knees, his face chalk white and contorted, his body twitching from head to foot.
Stebben gasped. The shields around him vanished. Wolloh turned. “Are you alright, boy?”
Stebben looked from the osprey man to the wizened form of Vintrusie. “I’m fine, sir. Just shocked and sad for—” He shook his head. “I would not have wished him harm had he left me alone.”
“And I would have allowed him to leave unharmed. He made his choice. Now, Stebben Stol, you must make yours. I am, as Vintrusie stated, Wolloh Espyro. I am a High DiMensioner. And I am willing to accept you as my apprentice if you feel that the Order of Esprow is your calling.”
“My father raised me to respect the Order. He told me the Mocendi League would search for me. If anything happened to him, I was to find a member of Esprow and ask to be trained.” He glanced at the trembling figure of the diminished DiMensioner. “My parents were murdered.” His eyes filled with tears. He blinked them away and swallowed. “Although Reader told me Chyneria, my younger sister, is safe, I have no idea where she has been taken. Everyone I love is gone.” Gulping in a deep breath, he gave Wolloh a watery smile. “I would be honored to train with you, sir. May I ask a question?”
“Of course.”
“Who is Reader?”
A curious smile shaped the strange mouth. “Reader?” He touched the crystal knob and gazed into its depths. “Ah, I see.” His smiled broadened. “You are a lucky boy, Stebben. Reader is a man of many personas. Let’s just say his interest in you is a good sign—a very good sign indeed.” He moved to Vintrusie’s side. “I suggest we escort the Mocendi to Dreela Omudi so he can be returned to his ship.”
Stebben considered pressing the High DiMensioner for more information. Thinking better of it, he looked down at Vintrusie. “Will he recover?”
“In time, he will regain his physical strength. Whether his Mocendi leader will return his power, I don’t know. It can be done if Vintrusie is worth it to him. Now, Stebben, your first lesson in the Arts of DiMensionery—take his right arm and picture the park across from Government Hall. Tell me when the image is clear.”
Stebben closed his eyes. The image formed. He looked at his mentor and nodded. Air tugged at his hair. The world blurred and snapped back into focus. They stood at the base of the statue of the Dreela Omudi.
“Teleportation! Papon told me about it, but I had no idea—” A full-bodied laugh burst from his throat, the first since he cast his line and pulled in a fish for Chyneria’s Sun Cycle Celebration.
end of
Fishing
UnFolding 9
Lessons
UnFolding 10
Companion Short
(novelette)
Fantasy Fiction
The UnFolding
by
S.K. Randolph
Copyright © 2015-2018 by S.K. Randolph
CheeTrann Creations LLC
10UF-V-29+i
Lessons
W onadahem Mardree, the Oracle of the Atrilaasu Dansmen, shivered in the quiet warmth of her tent at Eissua Oasis on the planet of DerTah. Tears streamed down her face and splattered the cover of a leather bond journal she clutched in her hands. Although her sightless eyes could not read the words, her heart knew every one. She had written them. The Dream Journals, records of her visions and dreams, were the property of the tribal elders. This one belonged solely to her. Its pages contained her most private thoughts and feelings…those she couldn’t share with another soul.
She raised an arm and wiped away tears on the sleeve of her kcalo. A tiny forked tongue flicked her cheek. Turning toward the small, red snake curled up on her shoulder, she whispered, “I can tell you anything, can’t I, Tesi?” Its prolonged hiss of agreement almost made her smile. A gift from her mother when she was three sun cycles, the snake had become her eyes, her confident, her friend.
A shudder quaked through her. Blind eyes blinked, widened, and once again filled with tears. She pressed a hand to her chest and felt a thumped and broken rhythm. Her world lay shattered around her, its pieces like spears in her heart.
Running a finger along the edge of the journal’s cover, she found a small nick on the top and turned the book upright. With shaking hands, she traced the markings on the corner of each page until she found the one she sought. Leaning over the opened journal, she touched the upraised letters written there, letters she could read, letters that helped her to remember other times.
Anticipation fills the oasis.
Today is my sixteenth birth celebration and the time of my initiation as the Oracle of my people. I am unsure if I am worthy of their trust and the responsibility they place in my hands. Four sun cycles ago when I was twelve, a drought killed much of our livestock. Soon after, illness spread like a desert storm though the tribe, killing many. My beloved parents were among those whose shrunken bodies burned in the plague pit on the far side of the oasis. How could I not have foreseen these events? I am the Oracle.
She rested her hands on the open book and sat deep in thought. Memories of her parents remained always uppermost
in her mind. She was grateful that the plague had not taken everyone she loved. A small smile curved her lips as she continued to read.
Roandee, my young brother, cannot believe that today has finally come. It is a time of celebration—singing and dancing and good food. Dansmen from other tribes will join in the festivities. They, too, wish to know what I will discover in the dreaming place.
Roandee is the only relation I have left. He is six sun cycles and full of life. He remembers little about his time with our parents. All the Atrilaasu, but especially the family of Narrtep, my best friend, help me to raise him. I love him dearly. His laughter makes my heart sing and his hand in mine reminds me that life is worth living. Together, we are family.
The absence of my parents on this special occasion—their laughter and their love—fills me with wistfulness. They would be so proud to see me become the Atrilaasu Oracle.
Irussi, the Headwoman of the tribe, pushes the tent flap aside. When she kneels at my feet, my fingers tell me her wrinkled face is wreathed in smiles. “The people await their Oracle, dear WoNa. Take my arm, and I will lead you to the place of initiation.”
Cool air brushes my cheeks as I walk beside the elder. Nighttime creeps closer and with it the moons that will light my way to the dreaming place. I cannot see them, but I feel their presence. Thoughts promenade through my head. I have learned over the course of the cycles to read the turnings by the feel of the sun on my face, the temperature of the air, and the sand beneath my feet. Love for my desert home fills me. I wish I could see the horizon where the sand meets the sky…and DerTah’s three moons…and the face of Roandee.
The UnFolding Collection Two Page 57
