by Dale Olausen
The pilot grinned broadly.
“Not bad for a spy, is it?” Coryn laughed.
“Well, you did have some pilot training,” Steph retorted. “But I have to admit it – you spies are always thinking.”
*****
“We’re almost within their range!”
The warning cry came only minutes after Coryn had come up with his idea. Now he scrambled to put it into action. The strengthened field was barely in place, and not a second too soon, as the first angry red slashes of the cut-rays flashed across the right side of the viso-screens. There was not much he could do this time; for the most part he simply waited and watched tensely while the red lines danced across the screens, followed by bright pin-pricks of colour as the energy was absorbed by the defence screen. Methodically, he slowly pivoted the strongest part of the reinforced defence screen, keeping it between them and the fighter. He just had to hope that the fighter couldn’t get weapons’ fire onto the defenceless side of the Camin.
Nonetheless, the attack was damaging the scoutship. An alarm light burned steadily beneath the viso-screens, indicating that some of the cut-rays’ energy was penetrating the defence screen and bleeding through to the Camin’s shell. Coryn glared at the light fearfully, but the ship’s metal hull was holding; the warning light stayed on, but the hull breach emergency alarm remained silent.
Tense minutes passed.
“How’s it look? The pilot yelled between his own desperate navigational moves.
“All right, so far,” Coryn called back. “She’s going to look pock-marked but she hasn’t taken any really serious hits yet!”
“Great! We might just make it! Another couple of minutes and we’ll be out of range!”
The red slashes and pin-pricks of light faded off the screen as abruptly as they had appeared. The alarm light blinked off for the last time. Relieved, Coryn noted that the computer’s damage report screen was still clear. Exulted but exhausted, he sunk into his seat. The little scoutship had weathered an attack by a fighter. The Camin and her crew might just make it!
“I went straight through, right for the jump coordinates, even though it meant passing the cursed thing at close quarters,” Steph explained happily as the two men watched the fighter receding from view on the viso-screen. “If you hadn’t had that notion about holding a reinforced shield between us and them, I wouldn’t have dared to do that. But this way we get to the jump coordinates sooner – and maybe they won’t have time to throw anything else at us.”
“I’m hoping they won’t,” said Coryn. “Quite a bit of the cut-ray energy got through the shield. Our starboard side must look bad. I doubt if we could weather another fighter attack.”
He shook his shoulders and arms, trying to loosen the tightness that had developed in the muscles. He relaxed a bit. The pressure was getting to him - how much longer could they go on like this?
At the sound of the alarm bell his muscles tightened once more.
Steph turned to scan the bank of viso-screens and let out an inarticulate curse.
“It’s coming into range now – a raider!” he shouted to Coryn who lunged for the defence controls.
The raider had come up suddenly, obviously via an omega-jump. What saved them was the fact that it took human beings a few seconds to readjust to normal reality after an omega-jump, so the raider’s attack was delayed by just that amount. Those seconds bought Coryn the time to get into position at the defence panel.
It was fortunate that this ship was a raider, and therefore less heavily armed than a fighter. It had two cut-rays to the fighter’s four which made all the difference for the Camin and her crew. Much like the first battle waged in the skies of the Firedragon, Coryn parried the opponent’s cut-rays with the Camin’s defence screens, adjusting them as required. It demanded alertness, co-ordination and nerve, but it was a matter of pitting his skill against his opponent’s. Coryn knew he could prevail.
“We’re going to have to jump on the run again!” Steph shouted from the controls. “That miserable bastard is heading directly for my jump coordinates and it’ll be nearly there when we are! How in the hell they managed to jump so close to them in the first place…” He let his voice fade away.
Coryn’s fingers continued to fly over the keyboard, blocking his unseen opponent’s attacks. I wonder what he looks like….
The ship’s alarm jangled yet again.
“Oh no!” The pilot’s yell was frantic. “Another raider in range. This one’s to the left of us!”
Coryn altered his defence tactics to approximate the strategy that he had so successfully used against the fighter. He pulled power from the portions of the defence shield to the back and right to reinforce the front and left. Tensely he watched and waited, compensating quickly for the Camin’s own motion as well as that of the attackers.
The alarm light under the viso-screens flashed red! The lethal energy was getting through to the ship. Four slashes zig-zagged back and forth across the viso-screens, their coverage now greater than the four cut-rays of the fighter had been. Fighting two opponents at once was becoming overwhelming. Coryn adjusted as well as he could, but saw even then, the insistent red flashes of the computer’s damage control screen indicating serious danger. The Camin was near the breaking point!
“We’re jumping!”
With a shudder Coryn felt his consciousness explode into bits, and scatter through an empty blackness. Dimly, he realized that they had made it through.
*****
Some hours later a crippled scoutship made an awkward landfall onto a field near Ferhil Stones, the famous Stronghold of the Kordean Witches. A green-robed Witch, accompanied by some servants, met the ship and welcomed the two exhausted-looking men who stepped out of it. One of them carried in his arms the body of an unconscious girl and at his heels padded a big green cat, its intelligent eyes remaining on the girl’s form throughout. The other man handed an insulated bag to the Witch, which she accepted with obvious relish.
“May we offer you the hospitality of Ferhil Stones?” she asked, looking curiously at the two tired Terrans.
They glanced at each other. The dark-haired one shook his head.
“I’d rather head immediately for Trahea, and have the Camin looked after,” he said, glancing suspiciously at the woman in green.
Coryn’s eyes were on Sarah’s body; he had handed her over to a burly man-servant at a gesture from the green-robed Witch.
“You won’t be needing me in Trahea,” he said to Steph, adding to the Witch: “I’ll stay.”
The woman’s steel grey eyes measured both men coolly. Then she stepped towards Steph and placed a cool, veined hand on his forehead for a moment – suddenly the pilot felt well and whole again. She repeated the gesture with Coryn and he, too, felt his exhaustion and pains fall away.
“Welcome to our Stronghold,” she said formally to Coryn and turned away before he could respond. She began to walk towards the open gate in the stone wall that hid the Witches’ dwelling behind it. Under her arm she clutched the insulated bag of amartos that Steph had given her.
“I’ll get in touch with you on the communicator as soon as I have any news in Trahea,” Steph said in a low voice as he turned toward the ship.
“Good. I’ll let you know if anything happens here,” Coryn agreed.
He watched the pilot climb up the Camin’s stairs and disappear inside. Then he turned to walk in the opposite direction, glancing up into the sky as he did so. Three full or nearly full discs of light and two crescents shone down on him. It was night-time on Kordea, and five of the seven moons were out.
Chapter Twenty-one
A black emptiness surrounded her. She tried to reach a hand into the darkness only to realize that she had no hand, no arms, no body. Once again she was a shapeless, formless mind, this time lost somewhere inside a black void that stretched endlessly in all directions. She wrestled with a sudden fear. Where was she? What had happened to her.
The first memory
to return was that of the tower room in the Castle Fortune. She recalled two women in gold-colour robes: the sage and her assistant Aris. There had been a third woman too, the green-clad Witch Marlyss, a Kordean Witch, come to fetch her, Sarah, back to her own reality. She had allowed the Witch Marlyss to take her into the long, narrow corridor that was the bridge between realities, the reality of Castle Fortune and Sarah’s own world. The last image she could remember was of turning around for a final look at the tower room, but instead seeing nothing but darkness and mist.
There the memories ended. She struggled to remember something more – anything. But there was nothing.
What had happened to the Witch Marlyss? Was she also lost somewhere in this emptiness? Sarah doubted that. If the Witches could build bridges between realities, surely they could cross them without falling into the abyss. But then where was Marlyss? What had gone wrong?
What? Was that a faint voice she was hearing? Was the void not quite empty, after all?
Yes! Someone was speaking. She concentrated on making out the words.
“Sarah!”
The faint voice was calling out her name!
“Yes, I’m here!” she answered back, attempting to shout with her mind’s voice, hoping that it would carry the unknown distance between them.
“Good.” The sound was a little clearer now. “Sarah, I want to you to use your imagination. Imagine yourself lying on a couch inside a spaceship.”
“Imagine myself lying on a couch inside a spaceship?” She was incredulous.
“Yes. That’s where your body is. We’ll try to send you a picture. Try to grasp it and hold it.”
She tried. Only splinters of the image reached; they were like pieces of a broken looking-glass. She saw a hand – her own pale hand – and an arm inside a too-big shirt-sleeve. It drooped limply. Part of a shoulder – her shoulder, inside a man’s shirt. The last time she had been inside that body it had been clad in a protecto-suit – how hot the suit had been that afternoon when she had fixed Roger’s soil-testing kit for him. Roger had frightened her into the forest – anger surged through her at the memory. The anger scattered the pieces of the image that she had been trying to put together. She had to start all over.
“Sarah, try to concentrate. It’s very important.”
There was exasperation in the voice. Sarah pushed the angry recollections away in an attempt to focus on what she was doing. But now the jagged puzzle-pieces seemed to have developed a will of their own, and they did not want to be put together. They eluded her grasp as she tried to catch hold of them, or else disappeared entirely the moment she thought she had them pinned down. It seemed like she struggled for hours, with no progress at all.
“No,” said the voice tiredly, “this isn’t working. We’re going to have to think of something better. Hang on, Sarah, we’ll be back.”
Silence and darkness returned. The voice was gone and the image fragments had disappeared with it. It was as if neither had ever existed. She was alone in the dark, had always been alone and would always be alone.
*****
The concentration of the Circle of the Twelve broke. As usual, Marlyss, the Eldest, was the first one to stir, and to return to the reality of the tower room. She slipped her green and gold jewel back under the folds of her robe, and got up. Walking stiffly after the long period sitting on a cushion on the floor, she crossed the room to one of the unshuttered southern windows and stared down at the moonlit countryside. Four of the seven moons were in the sky and one more was set to rise soon. Three moons were full or near full; the fourth was a crescent in the east.
The night was a bright one, for the three largest of the seven moons were all close to full tonight. That included Lina, which was always full. She was known as the Protectress of travellers, and was considered by the women of Ferhil Stones to be the thirteenth of the Circle of the Twelve.
Someone came to stand beside Marlyss, and a sidewise glance told her it was Dian, the youngest member of the Circle. Dian was very young, so young that Marlyss had long debated within herself before accepting her into the Circle. But she was very gifted, much more so than any of the other candidates for the position. And Tildhe had begged to be retired so that she could spend a few last years with her brother’s family, watching his children grow. The folk from the vine country, of whom Tildhe was one, all wore out and died young; they were not the tough survivors that Marlyss’ mountain people were.
“The ship – it comes,” said Dian dreamily. “It has entered our space.”
“Yes,” the Eldest replied shortly. “It will be here soon.”
“Shortly after Sennen-rise.” Dian’s eyes were on the purple sky where only the cool moons and the faint pinpricks of a myriad of stars could be seen.
Marlyss gave her a sharp look. She was so young and still clung to the childishness of the Apprentices. It wasn’t surprising, really, since she had been one only a short while ago.
“We must go down to eat and revive ourselves,” the older Witch said briskly. “Once we have the Stones and Sarah’s body we will try again to draw her back to this reality. It will be hard work – we must all be prepared.”
She turned away from the window and re-crossed the room, to the stairs. In a minute, the tower room was empty.
*****
Dian was not invited to be present when the spaceship landed, but she watched the event with great interest via her mindsight. Marlyss alone of the Twelve went down to the field to welcome the Terrans, and receive Sarah and the Stones. The rest of the Twelve were relieved to not have to share the duty and scattered to their rooms to rest. The next attempt to bring that obstinate Terran girl back to her body was bound to demand a lot of energy.
Why had the Twelve been unable to keep the bridge intact until Marlyss and Sarah had both crossed it? None knew for certain, but Dian suspected that the personalities of the Eldest and the Terran girl had something to do with it. Sarah was wilful and independent; Marlyss was not used to dealing with young women like that. When she led, she expected to be followed, and no questions asked. Somebody like Sarah would never submit to that – nor would she even make the pretence of submission, as Dian did.
After a hearty meal, much needed by the Witches after such strenuous efforts, Dian retired to her room, as did the rest of the Circle. She did not go to bed however, but instead settled cross-legged on an embroidered cushion in the window seat. She breathed in the night odours that wafted in on the breeze and removed the chain that contained her Stone from around her neck. She cradled the green and gold jewel lovingly in her palm while she stared out into the night, through the open casement window. For small tasks she didn’t need to look into the Stone – she was so closely in touch with it that she could connect with it just from the feel of it in her hand. Not every Witch could do that, not even all of those who had been admitted into the Circle. But Dian could do it effortlessly. For minor things she didn’t even have to hold the jewel in her hand; the contact with the skin between her breasts, as it hung on the pendant, was enough.
She saw the spacecraft land. It must have had a difficult passage to Kordea, for half of its surface was burnt and discoloured. In one spot the metal was broken through and with Stonesight she could see that the machinery beneath had been damaged. That was why the landing had been so wobbly and hesitant, nothing like the smooth landfalls she had seen other ships make at the Trahea port, when, as children, she and her sister had stolen to the landing field, to watch the alien ships come and go.
However, she was more interested in the occupants of this ship, than the ship itself. She had, for as long as she could remember, been fascinated by Terrans – there was within her a secret desire to know what it was like to travel physically among the worlds of the galaxy. She wanted to know the feel of alien worlds beneath her feet, to look up into the sky and see a different sun or different moons, to mingle with people so alien that they traced their ancestry to creatures that might not even look human.
&n
bsp; As she already knew, there were aboard the ship three Terrans and the greencat, an intelligent, nonhuman creature, wise in ways that even the Witches could only guess at. The first to step out was the fair-haired man whose appearance was familiar to her – he had come to Ferhil Stones once before, looking for information but leaving no wiser. He seemed exhausted – the little ship had obviously had a rough trip. Nonetheless, he carried the girl in his arms. The other man carried a bag containing the Stones. Marlyss beckoned to a manservant with whom she walked up to the Terrans, and relieved them of their burdens. The Eldest took the Stones while the servant gathered up Sarah.
Dian gave the second man a quick, curious glance but most of her attention was reserved for the first man. She had found him attractive when she had seen him that other time. Now she searched the tired face avidly for whatever it was that had caught her imagination then. He was what Terrans considered a handsome man – she knew that, for she had grown up in Trahea, only a stone’s throw from the Trade City, and had learned of such things. He had fair hair and skin that was dark compared to the pale Kordean complexions. His nose and eyebrows were straight, the eyes above the lean cheekbones were direct and the mouth and chin were strong. A slim, muscular body tapered from shoulders down to narrow hips – but she must avert her mind from that. It was the gravest heresy for a Kordean Witch, especially one who had won a coveted place in one of the sacred Circles, to feel desire for an alien man. When she took a lover, he had to be above reproach, one of the noble landed aristocracy.
She found in the Terran’s face what she was looking for, even if she couldn’t explain what that was. Looking at him, especially after Marlyss had brushed his weariness aside, she was filled with a strange pleasure and relief. It delighted her to see him follow the Kordeans towards the Witches’ Stronghold, rather than join his companion who returned to the spaceship.
Dian’s mind drifted back to her small room where she remained at the window for a few moments. She thought about how different things were here at Ferhil Stones compared to her childhood home. The night noises here were subdued compared to the hustle and bustle of Trahea. She knew she was lucky to have had the degree of stone sensitivity she did – it opened up possibilities denied to others, like her slightly older sister who was already married to a serving man back home. She had a son and was already pregnant with another child. For a poor girl from the city that’s how it was, if fortune didn’t smile on her, granting Stone-sensitivity.
