by Ryk E. Spoor
“Are there...more of them, do you think?” Istiri was clearly afraid, but not terrified. Her father being wounded had frightened her more than the monster itself, Condor thought. Strong woman. Though you’d expect that out here. In some ways she sort of reminded him of Kyri—Istiri was tall, with long, straight black hair, though her eyes were dark and her face more heart-shaped.
“I doubt it; regular bilarel travel alone or in pairs, but this thing was a freak; it’s almost certainly alone. If you really want to make sure, get some of the guards from town to check the area.”
“You didn’t answer the third question,” the farmer said, slowly getting to his feet.
Condor shook his head. “No need to thank me with anything more than words. I’ve got a journey ahead of me and no time to stop...though I’ve got little choice if people are in danger.”
“You’re sure?” Istiri’s voice echoed her father’s incredulity. “You just risked—”
“Nothing terribly much, I assure you. Fighting things like that...it’s my profession as a Justiciar of Myrionar.” Well, what else am I going to call myself? Not a False Justiciar. I’m not following anything else.
“Then please accept our most deep and heartfelt thanks, Condor, Justiciar of Myrionar,” Mallan said emphatically. “If journey you must, do so, and go safely. But you’ll be welcome here for a day or a year, if ever you pass this way again.”
“Then I thank you and accept your own thanks.” He bowed and, hearing them call farewells after him, strode towards the south, hoping to regain the Necklace and get in at least a few more hours of travel before night fell.
Events like this one...they gave him hope. He knew that was a terribly, terribly dangerous thing to have, when you were using surely accursed power and engaged in a mission of vengeance that might well leave you dead or worse. Yet...for the first time he was entirely on his own, possibly beyond the reach of the creature that controlled the Justiciars, and he was helping people not as part of a masquerade but because he wanted to, he was making the decision to find people in trouble and solve their problems.
The only problem was that it was slowing him, and he had been falling behind for a while. Phoenix and her party were like phantoms, passing through towns, leaving a few words and accounts of their presence, an occasional trace along the road, but for the most part seemed to be traveling without pause or comment. They’ve got a goal and they intend to make that goal. What? What is Phoenix after here?
That question was really nagging at him. The fact was that—during the times he was honest with himself—he knew Phoenix was a hero. He or she—based on the latest reports, probably she—had to be; she was the final choice of the true Myrionar, and there was no way she was less than the best the god could find in Evanwyl or immediately surrounding states. Yet it seemed that she was ignoring people in distress, or so blinkered by her mission that she actually wasn’t noticing them.
What could be driving her—or him—so hard that they’re not performing missions of Mercy, Justice, and Vengeance, so that I—the False Justiciar—have been trying to make up for their failures?
Try as he might, he couldn’t come up with a satisfactory answer to this question, and that bothered him a lot. But on the positive side, he was sure of her destination; it had to be the capital, Sha Kaizatenzei Valatar. Which meant that if he pushed himself a bit more, it wouldn’t be very long before he could catch up with her...and finally settle the matter of his murdered friend.
“Don’t worry,” he said to the Demonshard, and touched it, feeling the questioning, dark eagerness. “You’ll have someone to kill soon enough.”
And what then? a part of him asked.
And for that, he was not sure he had an answer.
Chapter 36
“I think I’m going to have to hop out of the bushes and admit I’m here,” Poplock said.
“What?” Tobimar was startled, and by their expressions so were Hiriista and Kyri. “Why? I thought we’d agreed—”
“We had, but...Tobimar, I’m good at watching people without watching them, you know. And sure as water’s wet, that Master Wieran’s guessed our game. Hiriista could do it, I can’t pretend he couldn’t. Right?”
Hiriista bobbed his head. “Indeed. You have expressed appreciation of my intellect and talents, all of you; understand then that in my honest estimation I am nothing at all special when compared to Weiran. Poplock is almost certainly right. Now, that does not mean he will communicate his perceptions to the others; he is the sort to keep secrets, whether he is the enemy we suspect or the savior others believe.”
“What do we gain by doing this, though?” Kyri asked sensibly.
“Blunt their stroke and perhaps return it upon them,” Tobimar said slowly, and leaned back in the chair, causing the front legs to tip up slightly. “Consider: at the moment no one has said anything to us about Poplock; as far as most of them know, he’s a dumb animal. Even if Wieran has said something to them, as far as they know, we still believe we have carried off this deception, right?”
“Ooooo, I see the way you’re swimming, and that’s clever,” Poplock said. “We confess to the deception...hmmm, how would be the best—”
“Tell them most of the truth,” Kyri said with a quick smile at both of them. “Truth is a lie’s best weapon, wasn’t that something you told me?”
“It certainly sounds like my brand of wisdom,” the Toad agreed with a bounce. “So...we tell them that I was kept secret as a sort of backup weapon, until...”
“Until,” Hiriista finished, enthusiasm rising in his tone, “you became convinced that the enemies you sought either were not here, or were at least not among the highest in the land, so by being open with them you will make them your allies to hunt down these enemies. Yes, yes, that is well thought of. It also allows you to define the parameters of the, how should we say, reveal.” He glanced at the others. “But this, of course, will only work if we do it before any of them indicate the slightest suspicion.”
Tobimar leaned forward, the chair-legs dropped down with a thump, and he rose. “Then let’s not waste more time. We were talking about meeting with Lady Shae and the others at the Valatar Throne this morning. Are we ready?”
Phoenix nodded, looking relieved. Tobimar thought he understood; duplicity was one of the harder things for her to manage, and hiding Poplock had been a strain on the Phoenix Justiciar. Plus the idea of having to wait for the reveal, as Hiriista calls it, would just make it worse.
“I certainly am,” Hiriista said. “And I look forward to seeing what we may learn here. You are a destabilizing influence, which may allow me to observe and deduce from events things which I would otherwise not have seen.”
“Happy to be of service,” Tobimar said with a grin. I’m pretty sure he’s got to be on our side now; if he wasn’t, he’s had more than a few chances to stab us in the back or hand us over to whoever wants us.
Admittedly, the depth to which some beings were apparently playing these games implied that there could be a reason for Hiriista to continue the masquerade even now, but Tobimar really doubted it. And Phoenix hadn’t shown any doubts of him, which Tobimar found comforting.
The four of them made their way to the Valatar Throne, where Lady Shae was standing with Miri, Pelda, and a couple of Hues whom Tobimar had not yet met. As they entered, Shae smiled and nodded; Miri, predictably, skipped her way over, grabbed Tobimar’s hands and said “Good morning,” bowed to Hiriista, and then gave Kyri a huge hug. She’s affectionate to everyone, but she seems even more so with Kyri.
“So good to see you all up and ready now!” she said. As she turned to lead them over, Shae finished her conversation and the two Hues bowed and left, glancing curiously at the newcomers. Pelda also bowed and excused himself.
“A welcome to you this good morning,” Shae said. “If you are hungry, I would invite you to join me; I was about to have my own breakfast when I was interrupted by an urgent matter.”
“Nothing
too bad, I hope,” Kyri said with concern.
“Oh, not a disaster; more something that could not move forward without my blessing. Never mind that, are you joining me?”
“We had expected to eat either with you, or perhaps later this morning, so yes,” Tobimar said, seeing that Lady Shae was already walking towards the smaller side room they had eaten in the prior night.
“Good, good. I expect you’ll want to have a good look around, and that Miri will want to avoid her duties for another day while guiding you—”
“Shae!”
Lady Shae laughed. “Oh, by the Light, Miri, you’re so worried about other people’s opinions. Of course I want you to make sure our unique guests aren’t left to fend for themselves.”
No time like the present. “About that, Lady Shae, I’m afraid we have a bit of a...confession to make.”
Shae raised an eyebrow, and though her expression was still relaxed, merely curious, Tobimar could tell from the shift in the tall, graceful frame that she was suddenly braced and ready for action. “A confession, you say?”
“Yes,” Kyri said. “We’ve hidden something from all of you since we arrived. Well, actually, it’s more accurate to say we’ve hidden someone.”
Poplock bounced onto Tobimar’s head and waved. “Hello!”
Shae’s eyes widened and she gaped momentarily. Miri spat out the tea she had just taken a sip of. “What?”
“Lady Shae, Miri, this is Poplock Duckweed...our other companion.”
Shae had recovered, as had Miri after she wiped her face off. “So your party was three, not two. You know...now that I think of it, some of your stories would have sounded a bit better if there was a third. You changed them, then?”
“Yes,” Kyri said. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, whether I accept your apology rather depends on the explanation.” Lady Shae was no longer smiling, but she did not—quite—look angry, either. “Why did you conceal his existence from us for all this time?”
“And,” Miri added, “why did you suddenly decide to reveal it?”
“Holdout weapon,” Poplock said simply. “That’s what I’ve been for them before, and it just made sense to try to keep me that way, especially when we came to this place expecting something monstrous.”
“As he says,” Phoenix affirmed. “Lady Shae, we know that our enemy had at least some connection here, somewhere. The worst possibility was that the connection went here, to the center of Kaizatenzei. Having Poplock as a backup just in case was so very important. But having arrived here and met you...” she shrugged and smiled. “Our enemy must be somewhere around, but I know that you aren’t what we’re seeking; I’d have sensed it, I’m sure, even through all this light around me.
“And we’ve gotten to know Miri really well; she’s become...” Kyri’s expression suddenly was surprised as she went on, “well, one of my best friends, even in these few weeks or months, and I just can’t imagine that someone she regards so highly as you would be any less trustworthy. So now we need your help to search for what must be hidden somewhere in Kaizatenzei, and if we’re going to do that, we can’t be hiding secrets from you anymore.”
Lady Shae studied them for a few moments longer, then suddenly threw back her head and laughed the big, hearty laugh Tobimar remembered from the party. “How can I resent something so cleverly done, and with such real and powerful reasons, especially when it is revealed with such flattery? Very well, you are forgiven!”
She stepped forward and extended a finger. “A pleasure to meet you, Poplock Duckweed.”
The little Toad took her finger and bowed over it. “I’m honored to finally speak with you.” He then bounced off Tobimar’s shoulder and landed on Miri’s head. Looking down into her eyes, he said, “And sorry to have tricked you for so long!”
Miri stared up at him—somewhat crosseyed, giving Tobimar an idea of how he must sometimes look when talking to Poplock—and suddenly grabbed him off her head. “You’re adorable!”
Poplock gave a startled croak but was utterly unable to get free from the sudden hug. The helpless, pop-eyed look was just too much; Tobimar suddenly burst out laughing, and so did everyone else, even Hiriista with his hissing shriek of amusement. “I guess you can take that as an acceptance of your apology, Poplock,” he said finally.
Finally released, the little Toad made it back to his shoulder. “Or I could take it as my punishment,” he muttered.
Lady Shae was regarding Hiriista. “You showed little surprise, Hiriista. Did you know this already?”
“I had deduced it earlier,” Hiriista said, “though I did not know for sure until they told me, which they did before coming down this morning.”
Well, there’s a masterful evasion. He’s just not saying how much earlier he deduced it, or just how long before coming down this morning he was told about Poplock. What was it that Xavier called that? “Telling the truth like a Jedi,” that was it.
Lady Shae smiled and sighed. “Well, all right then.” Looking back at the Toad she raised an eyebrow. “‘Poplock,’ hm? A master of accessing that which is hidden, are you?”
“Well, actually, there’s quite a story behind that.”
“I love stories,” Miri said. “Tell us while we have breakfast!”
Tobimar winced inwardly, though he kept it off his face. But telling them stories about you will reveal...
He stopped that line of thought. It will show that he’s formidable when his presence isn’t suspected. But it tells them nothing of any of the skills he’s picked up since, and allows us to tell the story of who he’s become in whatever way we like.
Of course, he should have assumed Poplock knew what he was doing; the Toad usually did, after all. And as the tale of the lone Toad against the cult of Voorith unfolded, Tobimar had to smile. They know he’s a menace...but they haven’t a clue about just how much of a menace. And maybe that will be enough.
Chapter 37
“Welcome to my laboratory,” Master Wieran said, with a dramatic gesture as he flung the doors wide.
Poplock bounced up on Kyri’s head for a better look. “Wow!”
The “laboratory” occupied an entire floor of the Valatar Tower, two levels above the entrance level; it was a ring-shaped room, its interior wall formed by the exterior wall of the original Tower, the one that had apparently housed the Great Light since before the founding of the country. But while that made the room impressively large, it was what filled the room that really caused everyone to stop and stare.
Laid out in geometric precision around the entire room was an incredible array of glass and crystal and metal equipment—retorts and beakers, distillation assemblies of tremendous complexity, crystalline enchantment matrices, summoning wardstones placed in precise arrays designed to be easily varied, an entire rack of objects that Poplock was sure were gemcalling matrices—with carefully sorted stones in divided trays beneath—shelves of books and scrolls and notebooks arranged just so, wide lab benches and experimental slabs adjustable to any angle and height. Some of those slabs, Poplock thought, look like they’re for living creatures.
There were small forges and fires, carefully set in broad workspaces with lots of safety margin; all manner of tools for cutting, grinding, mixing, and otherwise treating ingredients and materials for mystical experimentation; other things that looked like shrines to unknown gods, a workbench with neatly assorted and labeled components for clockwork mechanisms; magical designs worked into sections of the floor; and other things Poplock didn’t even have a good name for, except they looked really complicated. Faint scents drifted from various parts of the room—sharp, astringent smells, sweeter notes from herbs and dried flowers, pungent stenches of less-savory materials, all blending in a strange and unsettling mix.
“Wow,” he repeated. “I thought I’d seen some fancy workrooms before, but this makes ’em all look like the beginner’s kit.”
“Truly,” agreed Phoenix. “The Spiritsmith’s forge was great and held m
any amazing things, but this goes far beyond anything I have seen, as well.”
Master Wieran’s face showed a flicker of pride. Yet something...something about the way he stands still looks funny. “I have spent many years working on it; I would hope it would be as advanced and comprehensive as possible.”
“May we...look around, sir?” Tobimar asked.
“Certainly. Touch nothing, however, without my direct and express permission,” Wieran said warningly. “Some devices may appear inert, yet be functional; other experiments may seem robust yet be delicate. Disaster is easy to invite into a laboratory, and far more difficult to convince to leave.”
As they walked slowly around Weiran’s lab, more of it became visible—just as comprehensively complex as the rest. But one thing particularly caught Poplock’s eye. Lying on one of the adjustable tables was a very humanoid figure, but there was something...wrong with it, visible even at this distance. “Hey, what’s that?”
Wieran gave a thin smile. “Ah, I rather expected your eye would be drawn to that. Yes, that is an Eternal Servant in the process of construction. Come, I will show you some elements of its design.”
As the group approached, Poplock could see what had looked wrong; the object was strangely incomplete, with the lower portion—the rear half of the Eternal Servant—looking finished, and the front half clearly only partly complete. This allowed a sort of cross-sectional view of the humanoid construct.
Kyri bent close. “Why, it looks like it has skin! The other ones didn’t look like this.”
“Indeed,” Wieran said proudly. “The original Eternal Servants, while satisfactory in function, were sadly deficient in appearance. I have been constantly improving the design and function since they were first created. Did you examine any of the others closely?”
