Duality

by Renee Wildes

  Dara pictured Verdeen’s crimson face. “Lovely, now we’ve scandalized the poor child.” She clambered out of bed and gathered up her gown. “Will I see you later?”

  “Absolutely.” He watched her go. As she disappeared through the adjoining door, he flung himself back into bed with a groan. Rising, he hurried through his morning routine. He eyed the heir’s crown with distaste and plunked it atop his head on his way out the door. “I shall never get used to this thing.”

  “Start,” Hani`ena ordered. “It is your destiny.”

  In the family’s private dining room, Lorelei greeted Loren from her chair at the table. “Good morning. I owe Pari a farthing. I swore I wouldst be fishing yet another crown out of the well.”

  Loren grunted and poured himself a goblet of khaffa at the sideboard.

  “Ministry meeting begins in two bells.” Pari strode to his wife’s side and kissed the top of her head. “Good morning, love.” He held out a hand to Lorelei, palm up. “I believe thou owes me a farthing?”

  “So I do. I shalt take care of thy repayment later.”

  Loren poured his granther a khaffa as well and handed it to him. “Cianan and I shall address the ministry.”

  “Dost thou go to avert a war?”

  “Nay.” Loren bared his teeth. “To start one.”

  ***

  Dara yawned and stretched as she stared at the dancing flames in the fireplace of her room. She wondered how Loren’s meeting went. Lady, please let them heed his words. Three of the four mages she’d be studying with relaxed around the table. Only Anika was missing. As Minister of Mages, she was at the ministry meeting. Dara knew Anika would do her best to sway the other ministers in Loren’s favor. They were not alone in this fight. She must remember that.

  “You’ll be more comfortable in your own chambers for this,” Pahn said. “Lorelei’s here in case it gets away from you.”

  Gwendolyn nodded. “Reach out thy hand. The flames cannot harm thee.”

  “You’re both mad,” she said to Pahn and Gwendolyn. “Loren was mistaken.”

  “He wast not,” Lorelei answered. “Trust us.”

  Dara reached out a trembling hand to the flames. Feeling the heat, she flinched, expecting further pain, seeing in her mind her skin reddening, blistering. Naught of the kind happened. The flames enfolded her like a blanket, almost tickling her skin. A pair of tiny eyes blinked at her, and a small flicker of flame settled on her hand, dancing merrily.

  She gasped. “What is it?”

  Pahn laughed with genuine delight. “A salamander.”

  Gwendolyn smiled too. “Dara, meet one of thy elementals. I did not think they wouldst introduce themselves so soon, or we wouldst have covered this first.”

  How amazing. Loren had to see this. “What do I do with it?”

  “Try talking to me directly,” a crackly voice piped up, its tone petulant.

  “I-I’m sorry, I d-didn’t mean to offend. Have you a name?”

  It hissed.

  Gwendolyn and Pahn went very still.

  “My name is not to be uttered in your mortal realm. Call when you have need, ask what you will of us. We are your friends, your helpers. We will come.” It disappeared back into the fireplace.

  Pahn looked at her. “They can be coerced and bound, but I don’t recommend it. First chance they got, they’d turn on you. A partnership is best.”

  The voices hissed their displeasure. “Unbound elementalsss shalt do what you wish only if they agree to it. You lose reliability.”

  “What I gain is goodwill,” Dara retorted.

  “Fire’s pure energy and you can harness its power directly, particularly for healing,” Pahn told her.

  Unbidden, a distant memory came to Dara’s mind: a picture of her birth mother Sheena kneeling afore a blazing fire such as this one. She’d been injured in a fall down a shale-edged cliff. Dara herself had been just a toddler, still in swaddling cloths, but the image of the fire’s energy flooding her mother’s body came back to her. The flames had died to cold black coals, and Sheena had risen, completely healed with red flickering in the depths of her amber eyes.

  How had she done it?

  I call you flames of light to fire my soul, she recalled Sheena’s chant. Burn this pain away and let your light shine from within. I call you fire, become a part of you. You are a part of me.

  The words echoed within Dara. Lady Goddess, let this memory be for a purpose. Let my mother’s knowledge pass to me. Give me the strength to survive. Dara found her own sense of self burning within and reached for the flames with all of her will. “I call you flames of light to fire my soul. Burn this weakness away and let your light shine from within. I call you fire, become a part of you. You are a part of me.’”

  The rush of heat and power was staggering. Strength enough to soar, to fly. Gone were the weariness and pain and weakness. Everything she looked at flickered in a haze of flames; she wrestled it down. She glanced at the hearth. Cold half-burned logs were all that remained.

  The other mages stared at her with widened eyes.

  “Well done,” Gwendolyn said at last. “Thou needs never burn thyself out of all thy personal energy ever again. That was what thou wast doing all along, wast it not?”

  “I didn’t know. Fanny never told me.” Dara focused a flame on her hand and pointed it back at the fireplace. Go. The fire caught anew.

  “Well, now you do,” Pahn stated. “The salamanders can help you locate other fires as well.”

  “Communication,” Lorelei said. She’d been silent until now, seated near the door. Now she rose and approached Dara. “That wast how I contacted the woman who gave thee the dragon’s blood in Jalad’s prison. Water canst be used for scrying and communication.”

  “Metal mages use silver mirrors the same way,” Pahn agreed.

  “And so it be with fire, as long as there be one at either end,” Lorelei said. “Thou canst either use it to communicate directly, or to view indirectly.”

  “The Safehold kitchens, for instance,” Gwendolyn suggested. “I wouldst bet they never go out.”

  Dara considered that. “Aye. But if I spoke to anyone, they’d think themselves mad and run screaming. I could watch and listen. The fires in the great hall might be useful. How do I do it?”

  “The spell itself can be simple as you choose. Watch.” Pahn strode up to the mirror on Dara’s wall. “Show me my bedroom back home.”

  The mirror misted over. When it cleared, it revealed a spartan room, barely identifiable as a woman’s. “The runes on the headboard spell my name. My father carved them for me when I was a little.” Pahn cleared her throat. “Show me Peta’s workroom.”

  The mirror changed to show a forge. A stumpy woman who could have been Pahn’s twin was banging a hammer against a glowing curved bar. Dara flinched. Even at this distance, she knew it was iron. The woman turned to face the mirror on her own wall. “Greetings, Pahn. See you made it safe.” She eyed Dara. “That the girl?”

  Dara’s lips twitched. Not a very verbose bunch, dwarves. “I’m Dara, aye.”

  “Feel better?” Peta asked.

  “Aye, I do. Thanks to Pahn.”

  “She done it right, then. Good.” She looked at Pahn. “And the demon?”

  “Worse. I’m staying.” Pahn squared her shoulders.

  Peta nodded. “I’ll tell him. You need help, you call. Afore, not after. Clear?”

  Pahn smiled. “Clear enough. Later, cousin.” Peta disappeared and Pahn turned to Dara. “See how simple it can be?”

  “Ask thy elementals,” Lorelei suggested. “I shalt wait back here, out of their way. They hath no great regard for my kind.”

  Opposite forces, Dara realized. She knelt afore the fireplace and stretched out her hand. “Hello? Are you there? I need your help.”

  Eyes blinked at her. A flake of flame danced across her fingertips. “What would you ask of us, halfling?” It was the same salamander as afore, stressing the word “ask” as if making
a point.

  “Thank you for coming. I need to see inside Safehold Keep, in the Arcadian kingdom of Riverhead. It sits at the foot of Mount Aege, the Fyre Mountain at the edge of the Breaks. Do you know it?”

  “We do. What would you see?”

  “The view from the fireplace at the east end of the main hall. It is open to the dais and eating tables. Can I hear what people say?”

  “We can.”

  “Two of these three people have been taken by the abyss. Does that pose any danger to your kind? We plan to fight them, to banish the demon, so we need to know what they plot. But if you are at risk, little friend, I will find another way.”

  The salamander glowed brighter. “Kind halfling. We can watch and listen without harm.”

  “You sure she’s dragon?” Pahn asked Gwendolyn.

  The voices hissed their displeasure at the entire situation.

  “Shut up,” Dara ordered her ancestresses. “We do this my way or not at all. Blame Sheena. She made me mortal, with human values taught by Fanny and Rufus.” She redirected her thoughts to the waiting salamander, whom she found herself thinking of as First, as he was the first one to greet her. “Thank you, little friend. These are the people I wish you to focus on.” She thought hard of faces—Caltrik, Tegan and Jalad. “Got them?”

  “We do. Wait. Watch.” First leaped from her fingers back into the fireplace, and the flames flared higher, revealing a flickering image of Hengist’s great hall. The dais was empty, but Caltrik stood afore the other fireplace. “Wait,” the salamander said, and the view changed to the view from the west-side hearth.

  “Th’ second set o’ ba-pef are secured,” Gerrold reported to Caltrik. “I don’ like this. King Jalad goes too far, that child-witch changin’ men t’…those things.”

  “Relax. Th’ ba-pef make us invincible.”

  “What’s t’ keep her from turnin’ us?”

  Caltrik grinned. “Just don’t kiss her.”

  Dara turned to Pahn. “The child-witch is Tegan, a kitchen maid the demon in Jalad took as a consort. Jalad called her ‘the mother of my new army’.”

  Gwendolyn frowned. “This smacks of black sorcery. If they art transforming mortal men into something else, we needs know afore, not after.”

  Pahn looked at Dara. “You need to see these ba-pef.”

  She needed to do this. She needed to warn Loren they faced more than Jalad. More than the Other, the demon.

  “They’re probably kept in a strong, dark place, with iron and stone.” Dara turned to the salamander. “Below the cellars are the old dungeons. Look for torches deep underground.”

  First was openly reluctant. “Great evil lives there.”

  “Don’t go if there’s danger. But if you can we need to see.”

  It showed a murky view from a smoking rush torch. Behind rusted iron bars milled twisted, giant shapes in the dark. They spoke in grunts and groans, and shambled about on the stone floor. One passed close enough to the bars for the women to see what the demon had done to mortal men. The creature was three times its original size, and twice as broad. Naked, what once was human was gone. No face, no gender. Just an enormous vessel filled with blackness, hate and rage.

  Dara was chilled to the bone. “Enough, little friend. I thank you for your help. Go back to your warm, light place.”

  First vanished.

  Dara thought hard. “A kiss, he said. Must be how Jalad transferred a shard to Tegan. She in turn passes it on to men. Jalad told me he had great plans for the dungeon. I had no idea there were such chambers down there.” Despair filled her heart. “This is beyond us.”

  “This is not beyond Her,” Lorelei stated. “We needs speak with the ministry—now. Let’s go.”

  ***

  Standing outside the ministry chamber, Loren looked at the uniformed guard, then at Cianan. Through the thick wood of the door, he heard raised voices. Fear and anger hammered into him, although he could not make out any individual words.

  Cianan nodded, his blue eyes sober. “We shall not have an easy time of it. The ministry is baying for goblin blood—again. Their pride shall allow no less.”

  “We cannot afford pride right now. We must break the demon afore he gets any stronger. The goblins are not going anywhere. They shall still be here when we get back. Riverhead and Hengist may not.”

  “I more than any know the treasure of your friendship. But I must ask you, brother, as your friend, are you sure you do not do this for the sake of friendship?”

  Loren glared at him. “I have never denied Hengist is my friend. If it were just Jalad and Westmarche invading Riverhead, I would tell Hengist to have at it.”

  Cianan nodded. “Pari and Lord Elio are on our side on this matter. But it shall take more than our army.”

  “Aye, it shall.” Loren’s jaw tightened.

  Cianan raised an eyebrow. “All we need is ministry approval to banish a demon.”

  Loren snorted. “That is all.”

  Cianan grinned, but his eyes were flint-hard. “Those old fools shall be made to see the light. If we do not act, they shall be the first to screech like women when the demon horde descends.”

  “Ready?” Loren took a deep breath. The heir’s crown weighed heavy on his brow. What would the crown of Cymry weigh on his soul?

  Cianan’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to the here-and-now. “I stand with you, brother, always. Let us go start a war.”

  Loren nodded at the guard. “I am ready.”

  The soldier shook his head. “Nay, Highness. You know the rule. No blades. I must ask you both to leave your weapons here.”

  Loren and Cianan both handed over their swords. Loren caught Cianan’s eye and shrugged. A necessary precaution in case either of them was tempted to make a point.

  The guard opened the door. “Announcing His Highness, Prince Loren.”

  Loren squared his shoulders and swept though the doorway.

  All debate ceased. Nine pairs of eyes met his in turn—Pari, Lord Elio, Raun and the other six ministers. There was high priestess Aletha and old Anika, the Minister of Mages.

  Lord Elio and Anika each nodded to him as he caught their gaze. Two ministers with him, then.

  Cedric was absent. Pari presided at the head of the table. Loren swallowed down a lump of apprehension. Why was his father not there when his land needed him now more than ever? How could Cedric allow his emotional father side to overrule his logical ruler side? They needed Cedric. He could not do this alone.

  “You are not alone,” Hani`ena chastised him.

  “I know you are with me,” Loren sent back.

  “And Cianan, and Pari, and Elio, and——”

  “Enough. I get the point.” Loren’s eyes held Raun’s. Would Alani’s father put aside his personal animosity and do his duty as the Minister of the Treasury to release funding for a war in the world of men? He hoped the ministry preferred a war far from home than on its own borders.

  “My lords and ladies, I would address this ministry.”

  In the absence of the high king, the former high king, Pari, presided. “The heir is recognized.”

  Loren tried not to flinch at the title.

  “What wouldst thou say to this ministry, heir of Cymry?” Pari asked.

  “You speak of war.”

  The Minister of Merchants, Gioeli, bristled. “Honor demands justice—”

  Loren held up a hand. “A third goblin war would be vengeance, not justice. We do not go to war to avenge the death of one man, prince or not. My brother or not.”

  “All know of the animosity betwixt thy brother and thee,” Raun retorted. “Convenient his death was, to place thee here today.”

  Loren saw Cianan reach for his nonexistent sword, but it was Anika who answered.

  “Just as well known was Prince Loren’s personal aversion to politics and power. We also know he hath spurned thy daughter in favor of another. If thou cannot separate personal from official business, I wouldst ask thou be r
emoved from these proceedings.”

  Pari eyed his grandson from the head of the table. “What of thy brother’s murderers?”

  Loren glared back as Raun struggled to regain his composure. “You and I both know the one who killed him is not long for this world, Granther. The mercy of a quick death. The destruction of his weapon. Once tainted by elven blood, a blade is forever untrue. It must be destroyed afore it destroys its wielder. So it has ever been since the days of Camryn. The spilling of elven blood never goes unanswered for long. It is already done and is a foolish reason to go to war.”

  He turned to the ministry. “Deane and I had our differences, but I loved my brother all the same. You know with the crown I cannot lie, but I am insulted all the same some of you thought I would.” He glared at Raun. “I hereby put my words on record for all time. Whatever hopes of an agreement you had betwixt yourself and my father in regard to your daughter Alani, you must lay it aside. I have no interest in marrying her, sir. Now, do we work together for the greater good, or do you excuse yourself from this ministry here and now?”

  Raun eyed Loren. “We work.” There was grudging respect in his voice.

  “Wars are costly propositions,” Loren said. “If you would go to war, make sure it is for stakes of equal value—like a demon.”

  “Why should we go?” Danaii, the Minister of Education, asked. “We do not interfere with the world of men.”

  “The world of men is prepared to interfere with us. Do you think the demon, once it devours everything on the other side of the barrier, shall be content to stay there? Do you think darkness shall never challenge the Light? Then you are fools, for he is coming. It would not stop with the world of men. If it takes the mountain passes, how long would the barriers hold? How long afore darkness sweeps over our realm to the very walls of Poshnari-Unai? To the Lady’s very temple? If we do not banish it now while it is still weak, all is lost.”

  Anika broke in. “We have mages for all five elements—Lorelei for water, Gwendolyn for earth, myself for air, Pahn for metal, and Dara for fire. Loren stands as Lady’s champion, and Everett and Aletha as high priest and priestess. We have man, elf, dwarf and dragon. Anika for crone, Lorelei for mother, and Dara for maiden.”