Transcendence and Rebellion

by Michael G. Manning

  Gareth’s face hardened. “You’d throw away your position to protect that monstrosity?”

  Conall lifted his chin. “I’d give my life to protect any of my sisters, and that includes the two who stand here now.”

  Moira was touched by her brother’s gesture, while at the same time, in the back of her head, she was reconsidering the odds. If Conall threw in with her against the archmage, it would significantly improve her chances of breaking Gareth’s defenses quickly enough to take his mind. Assuming Conall didn’t realize what she was doing and change sides in mid-battle. Her younger brother was naïve, but his sense of honor virtually guaranteed he wouldn’t approve of her plan.

  Unless Gareth manages to kill my spell-twin in the opening exchange, thought Moira coldly. Conall doesn’t realize she isn’t the real Myra. He might be so enraged he would switch sides completely, or at least long enough for me to take control of Gareth.

  It was such a cold-hearted plan that it even gave Moira pause for a moment, but she had no room in her heart for self-doubt. If the spell-twin moves toward Gareth, and one of his supposed allies, the krytek, kills her, it might be enough, she thought, preparing to send the commands.

  Just before she did, Gareth relaxed his posture and stepped back, waving at the krytek to stand down. “This is a mistake, Conall,” he said warningly.

  Conall held firm. “If so, it’s none of your concern. I answer only to the Queen, and if she were here I feel certain she would agree with me.”

  “Thank you,” said Moira softly behind her brother’s shoulder. The emotion in her words was genuine, and she felt slightly guilty for her plan to manipulate his protective nature to her advantage.

  Her brother glanced back at her, offering a wan smile. “We’re family,” he said simply.

  “I think we’re done here,” announced Lord Gaelyn.

  “Feel free to leave, then,” said Conall. “I’d like to talk to my sister. We haven’t seen each other in a while.”

  “I’m afraid not, Count Cameron,” returned the archmage. “You know very well that I’m here to prevent you being alone with her. She’s too dangerous. Unless you’re proposing to join her in house arrest. Is that your intention?”

  Conall sighed, then looked at Moira. “Sorry, Mo’.”

  Looking into her younger brother’s eyes, Moira was seized with a desire to hug him, but she knew better than to attempt it. Gareth would interpret it as a hostile action. “It’s alright,” she told him. “Do what you feel necessary.”

  He nodded. “We’re both just trying to do what we think is right.”

  “I know,” she answered. “But I still think you’re a brat.”

  Conall smirked for an instant, and then he left. Gareth followed close behind him. Once again, Moira was alone.

  Humphrey nudged her leg, reminding her of his presence, and she bent down to scratch behind his ears. “What’s taking Myra so long?” she asked the young dog, but Humphrey didn’t have an answer for her.

  Chapter 8

  Myra had been waiting at the boundary for just over three days when a small opening finally appeared. Lynaralla looked out at her from it.

  “Moira?” asked the She’Har girl, then she corrected herself. “No, you must be Myra.”

  Myra smiled. “You spotted the difference pretty quick.”

  “Your aythar is almost identical, but the lack of physical substance within your spell-body is more apparent,” explained Lynaralla. “Come in.” She stepped away from the opening, and Myra accepted the invitation.

  Studying her surroundings, Myra saw that the land had changed significantly. The trees on either side of the road were gone, replaced by a featureless, grey landscape that almost looked as though it was covered in snow, if snow were the color of slate. “What happened?” she asked.

  “Our father,” said Lynaralla.

  The answer took Myra by surprise, and it was a second before she realized that Lynaralla was referring to Mordecai. That’s right, he told her he was adopting her. Although she was a spell-twin, she didn’t feel like one. In her mind she had been raised by Mordecai and Penny. She remembered it. Of course, in those same memories, they had called her Moira. Sometimes it was hard to accept that she was just a little over a year old, that she hadn’t actually been the one sitting on her father’s knee, looking up and wondering why his chin was covered in hair.

  She should have been happy just to be accepted, but she felt a small pang of jealousy knowing that the She’Har girl in front of her was now counted as one of their daughters. It hardly seemed fair. I shouldn’t be so petty, thought Myra. I should be happy to have a new sister.

  After a few seconds, she shook herself from her reverie. “He was here?”

  Lynaralla nodded. “None of us saw him, but Matthew swears it was him. I believe him.”

  “I need to talk to Matthew,” said Myra.

  “He’s different now,” said Lynaralla. “It’s hard to explain. We’ll have to walk. Karen left as soon as she dropped me off at the boundary.”

  Myra could have flown. One advantage of not having a true body was that she could freely change her form. She could even attempt flying the way Mordecai did, since crash landings weren’t really a danger to her, but the walk would give her a chance to find out what had happened. “You can catch me up on what’s been happening as we go.”

  Lynaralla did, beginning with the events before she had arrived herself. She described the unremitting attacks and their complete isolation from the world they knew. She explained her own arrival with Irene and the later appearance of Cyhan, Elaine, and Chad. Once she had all that out of the way, she told Myra about the past week. The increasing intensity of the attacks and their desperate defense while Matthew remained aloof, directing their strategy while refusing to commit himself.

  “His plan was nearly flawless,” said Lynaralla as she finished up. “He anticipated the enemy’s final assault and wiped out nearly all their reserves just as they gathered, but he made a mistake at the very last. I’m not sure what went wrong, but Karen blames herself. Apparently, she didn’t follow his last instructions completely.”

  Myra coughed. “I can’t blame her for that. I’m sure he was pretty full of himself when he was giving orders.”

  “She knew better,” said Lynaralla coolly. “We all did. Over the previous days we had lots of time to learn to trust his predictions.”

  “Predictions?”

  “His gift has developed,” Lynaralla explained.

  “His danger sense?” asked Myra.

  The She’Har woman shook her head. “The Illeniel gift takes several forms. The children, such as myself, sometimes display the more limited form, which you call a danger sense. That form is always present in our krytek as well. The elders, however, develop a much broader type of foresight based on probabilities observed in closely aligned planes of existence.”

  Myra nodded; she had heard as much before.

  “Our brother, though, has developed something akin to the predictive powers of the Illeniel Elders. From what I was taught, that was thought to be impossible, as the human brain functions on such a brief and rapid temporal scale.”

  Myra made a face. “Trust Matthew to find a way to be different. He’s always been weird.”

  Lynaralla didn’t catch the humor in her remark. Instead she nodded in agreement. “What he’s done is extremely impressive.”

  “So he can predict the future now?” asked Myra. When Lynaralla began shaking her head to correct her, she hastily added, “I know, I know, it isn’t really precognition. Just let me simplify the terms a little. It’s too much work to say ‘probability forecasting’ over and over.”

  Lynaralla pursed her lips, clearly not liking the simplification, but she gave a short nod after a few seconds. “As you wish. His ability seems to be more limited than that of the Elders, who could discern things thousands of years in the future, but that makes it all the more incredible. While long-term probabilities are less aff
ected by the vast number of small variables present in everyday life, discerning probabilities in the range of an hour or two is entirely different, since almost every small bit of chaos in the system can radically change outcomes.”

  Myra followed the reasoning, but she found Lynaralla’s overly precise language tiresome. No use complaining, though, she thought, that would just cause her to give a long explanation for why she feels it necessary. She smiled and shifted the topic. “Where is he now?”

  “Resting in his room,” said Lynaralla. “Karen and Irene have been taking turns watching over him. What news do you have?”

  “Wait until we get to the castle,” responded Myra. “Otherwise I’ll have to tell it over and over again.”

  They were already in sight of Lancaster’s walls, and a figure there was waving at them. Myra and Lynaralla answered by waving back. The figure vanished, and after a few minutes Karen appeared beside them. “Moira!” she exclaimed, but she frowned almost as soon as she said it. “Oh, not Moira—Myra. Sorry.”

  “It’s to be expected,” said Myra. “I’m starting to consider changing my appearance to make things easier for everyone.”

  “Not a bad idea,” opined Karen. “I’m surprised you haven’t done it already.”

  Myra winked at her and made a show of stroking her hair. “It’s hard to mess with perfection.”

  Karen laughed, but Lynaralla stared blankly at her, missing the joke once again. Then she asked, “I understand you’re considered pretty, but you’re hardly perfect, at least in the physical sense.”

  “That’s not what she meant,” offered Karen.

  But Lynaralla went on, “Symmetry is a critical component of beauty and your nose isn’t perfectly aligned, not to mention the proportions of your breasts and hips being slightly unbalanced. Also, smoothness of complexion is…”

  “Lynn!” warned Karen. “It was a joke.”

  “Oh,” said the She’Har woman.

  Meanwhile, Myra found herself inspecting her own form. Her body was a deliberate construct, and she had never really thought about altering it, even to fix the normal variances in shape or skin tone that humans typically lived with. There wasn’t any reason not to do so, however. I could be buxom, blonde, slender, short, tall, whatever I wish, she realized. Why do I remain as a duplicate of Moira? She wasn’t sure, but she guessed it was simply force of habit. On impulse she changed her hair to a honey blonde.

  Karen grinned. “It looks good. Moira will be jealous.” She held out her arms. “Take my hands. I’ll save you a walk.”

  A second later, they appeared within the main hall of Castle Lancaster. Most of the others had already gathered there to welcome her, and after a long round of greetings, Myra took stock of who was present and who wasn’t. Chad, Cyhan, Elaine, Alyssa, and Gram were there, but notably, Matthew was absent. “Where’s Matt?” asked Myra. “He needs to hear this too.”

  They glanced at one another, though Myra noted that after a few seconds their eyes invariably rested on Karen, who sighed. “He can’t really talk,” admitted Karen. “He was injured in the battle.”

  Worried, Myra asked, “Is he alright?”

  Karen nodded. “His injuries have been healed, but your father did something to him. We think it’s starting to fade, but it may be a while before he can communicate normally.”

  Myra frowned. “Maybe you should explain exactly what happened. I’m confused.”

  Chad Grayson spoke first. “His dad turned him to stone, an’ he’s so naturally hard-headed it’s takin’ forever for him to return to normal.”

  Elaine glared at the woodsman. “If you don’t have anything helpful to say, kindly refrain from speaking.” As soon as she turned her eyes back to Myra, the archer began silently mouthing words at her back.

  Myra listened as they tried to explain what happened, but their combined responses only made matters worse. In the end, it was Lynaralla and her overly precise language that saved the day. “Mordecai extracted most of the entropy from his body, effectively slowing time for him so he could be healed. We’ve been keeping him warm and he’s gradually returning to normal, but it’s difficult to speak with him since his perception of sound is still too far removed from ours.”

  “Lynn says we probably sound like birds chirping to him right now,” added Karen helpfully.

  “An’ he sounds like he’s croaking,” said Chad. “It’s borin’ as hell.”

  “We’ve worked out a temporary solution, though,” said Karen. “We write down what we want to say and then wait for him to pen a response.”

  Chad Grayson snickered. “It’s about as much fun as watchin’ grass grow.”

  “I’ll have to write everything out then,” said Myra. “I’ll explain what’s happened as I write.”

  Gram went and brought writing tools and paper from Duke Roland’s study, and after they had Myra comfortably seated at the high table in the great hall, she began to write, stopping now and then to relay her news to the others.

  Matthew,

  Moira sent me to bring news of events in the city and at home. Karen and the others have already informed me of what happened here.

  First and foremost, Lady Rose and our father did escape, though I suppose that given events here you already know that. We still have no word of Lady Rose’s whereabouts, but I trust that if our father survived she must be with him still.

  The Queen has kept me under house arrest, though I’m sure you can guess how well that’s working. Tyrion seems to have become her closest confidant and there are rumors that the two of them are also involved in a more physical sense. Conall continues to serve as her champion, though his loyalties are somewhat divided.

  Ariadne stated plainly in front of me that she does not wish to actually capture Father, but Tyrion is another matter. He has developed a serious grudge against both Dad and Rose. His stated intention is to kill them both if he has the opportunity.

  Gareth Gaelyn remains loyal to the Queen, but his motivations are complicated. Moira and I have had little time to study him, but his problem lies more with Moira’s continued existence (as well as mine). If we were not in the picture, he might be more inclined to support Dad’s innocence, or at least withhold his support from Ariadne.

  Tyrion has introduced krytek guards to supplement the Royal Guard in Albamarl as well as to bolster the defenses of all the other major cities. This seems to have been effective at rooting out the hidden ANSIS units within the populace, but it has created more problems for Ariadne. In Albamarl the citizens are disconcerted by the unexplained disappearances of their friends and loved ones. It wouldn’t take much for them to start rioting in the streets.

  At present, Moira is isolated at home, but she has already begun taking measures. I hesitate to put them down on paper, even here, among friends (who are reading along as I write). I’m sure you can infer what I mean. She has limited herself to the krytek guarding her thus far, but as they rotate back to duty in Albamarl, she is expanding her allies.

  She is trying hard to prevent another situation like Dunbar, but it is difficult given that we have two enemies now, ANSIS and the Queen. To simplify that, Moira has devised a plan to unify the kingdom and reconcile our father with Ariadne. It isn’t without risk, however, and certain casualties are to be expected. If you have any thoughts on the matter, please put them in your reply, especially regarding Tyrion and Gareth.

  Other than such principal movers, Moira doesn’t intend to endanger or harm any of the human retainers. For myself, I worry about whether she can succeed without causing significant damage to Lothion in general and to the nobility in particular. Again, your input might be helpful. Moira intends to move as soon as I return with your reply.

  Love (from your youngest sister),

  Myra

  Gram chuckled as he read her closing over her shoulder. “Youngest sister, huh? Irene’s going to love that. She’s always been the baby.”

  Myra smiled. “In a sense, I’m also the oldest, or o
ne of the three oldest, since I have Moira’s memories. They’re all middle children now.”

  Chad broke in. “Am I the only one that’s a little worried about the fact that, according to this she’s planning to overthrow the government?”

  “No,” said Elaine, looking at the ranger with obvious disgust. “For once, we’re agreed.”

  “Mordecai should have done it years ago. We wouldn’t be having these problems now if he had,” said Sir Cyhan flatly. Gram seemed shocked at his mentor’s words.

  “He would disagree with you,” declared Lynaralla. “Father believes in the rule of law.”

  “And I’m sure Lady Rose would say the same,” responded the big warrior, “but the fact of the matter is that he’s been the power behind the throne for too long. The reason everything has fallen apart isn’t because of this murder trial, but the fact that he’s stood on his principles rather than practicality. If he had taken power, Lothion wouldn’t be fractured right now.”

  Alyssa looked at Cyhan, and then nodded in agreement. “Mordecai is a good man, but my father is right.”

  “I’m more worried about how she’s plannin’ on doin’ it,” explained Chad, then added with a shudder, “She’s been in my head before. I still have nightmares about it.”

  Karen stood. “Let’s take it up so Matt can start reading. It’ll take hours for him to write a reply. The sooner we let him start reading, the better. We’re not going to decide anything arguing amongst ourselves.”

  Myra looked around at them. “Matthew is your leader then?”

  “I sure as hell don’t want the job,” swore Chad. “And big, tall, an’ ugly there won’t do it.” He nodded at Sir Cyhan as he finished.