by Ryk E. Spoor
“But he’s notorious about not wanting visitors, Kyri,” Tobimar reminded her.
“But he’s not there now,” she said. “Remember, he was packing to leave when we left. He’s gone with the army by now. Oh, his forge itself is probably all secured, but there weren’t any signs of any traps or enchantments or wards on the plateau itself. Poplock?”
“No, no sign of any, or any sign there’d ever been any. I think he considers it pretty secure as it is.”
“Can you give us clear enough directions so that we can get there ourselves without you having to lead us?” asked Aurora. “Because Xavier’s never been there either.”
Kyri glanced at Tobimar and Poplock. Tobimar thought back to the trip they’d made, then looked at Poplock for confirmation. “I think so. The three of us could work out the route to Waycross, and from there it’s a pretty straight walk following the split-peak landmark.”
“How far from that plateau would you guess the Black City would be?” Toshi asked.
Tobimar shrugged, looking at Kyri, who also shrugged. Poplock rolled his eyes. “You guys can’t even guess that? Figuring elevation at around twenty thousand feet, and the fact that the city itself was still over the horizon, something over two hundred miles, I’d guess.”
“Twenty thousand feet!” Nike was startled. “Good Lord, Toshi, you’ll need to be providing us with oxygen or something.”
“It’s not that difficult to breathe up there,” Kyri said. “Though it is colder than down here.”
“Hmmm,” Toshi said, frowning. “But this planet has similar gravity to Earth and apparently similar diameter. Why would the scale height be so much different?”
“They call it magic for a reason, dude,” Xavier said.
“But why? Why would the magic do this?”
“It’s possible that the Spiritsmith arranged it,” Poplock pointed out. “He needs air for his forge, and probably doesn’t want any visitors keeling over just because the air’s too thin.”
“Might be,” conceded Toshi. “Which might mean that it’s no longer in force when he’s gone. But Nike is also right that I could manage to address that problem. So this seems a very viable alternative and one that would reduce our journey, even taking into account the need for a very slow and cautious descent on the other side, by at least two months, possibly more.”
“In that case, I think we should stay for at least a couple of weeks,” Nike said, “and see if they or the Watchland can somehow locate this ‘Justicar’s Retreat.’ If they can do that before we leave—”
“—we’ll go in with you and help kick this guy’s ass,” Xavier said firmly. “Which for all we know might make things easier all around, if he’s been the guy pulling all the other strings.”
“You don’t have to—”
“Of course we don’t,” Gabriel said immediately. “But you and Tobimar and Poplock are Xavier’s friends, and we now know what a terrible enemy you will be facing. We do indeed have our own rendezvous with destiny…but you have shown us a shorter way to that destination than the one we would have taken. It is only just, as your own god would say, that we devote some of that time to you. And a few weeks of rest, after what we went through, also sounds attractive.”
Toshi bit his lip, then gave a little bow. “Agreed, unless Aurora has an objection?”
Aurora smacked her fist into her open hand; the concussion shook the conference room. “I would love to punch the guy who put that disgusting spell on the poor Watchland. Two weeks, maybe three.”
“Done, then,” Toshi said. “Do you have any leads on how to find your target?”
“I’m going to talk with the Watchland again tomorrow,” Kyri answered. “You—any of you—could come if you like. I’m hoping that we’ll be able to draw out some repressed memories of the Retreat. Either the Watchland has been there, or he’s been repeatedly possessed by a being that has. It seems at least reasonable to think that somewhere inside, Jeridan knows how to find it.”
“Right,” Tobimar said. “Poplock and I are going to go talk with Arbiter Kelsley; it seems to me that the remaining high priest of Myrionar and his temple might have some clues, even if they don’t know they’re clues, so to speak.”
“And at the least I might get an idea of how to get through the diversion wards they must have set up,” Poplock said. “Since they’d have to be real similar to the original wards.”
“Diversion wards?” Aurora asked.
“Enchantments to keep people from reaching a certain spot,” Poplock said. “You get diverted around it, no matter how hard you try. Gets more and more blatant as you fight it harder. If you don’t know it’s there, what happens is that even if you started going straight for whatever-it-is, you just gradually change your course. If you’re following a compass, you’ll keep misreading it until you’re well past, and so on.”
Poplock rocked side-to-side, frowning. “Real hard to get through unless you’re either a lot more powerful than the person who put them up, or you know whatever the trick is to get past, or if you’re able to focus a counter-diversion ward and get through. That’s what I’m probably going to have to do if we can’t figure out how to just walk there…and I’m guessing that Viedraverion set it up so that only False Saints can get through.”
“But that’s tomorrow,” Xavier said. “We’re not getting any of that done now.”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him. “And you have something else in mind?”
“Well, I’m not saying people who have more deep thoughts can’t keep talking, but I’m not planning on it. Instead—partly because he reminds me of Mike—tonight, I’m gonna teach Rion, and anyone else who wants, my brother Michael’s favorite card game.”
He produced a pack of cards of a type that Tobimar had never seen before. “Time for this world to learn five-card draw poker!”
Chapter 19
“You wish to see…what, precisely?” Arbiter Kelsley asked.
“Well, that’s part of the problem,” Poplock said. “We’re not sure.”
Kelsley jumped. “By the Balance…were you always able to talk?”
“Yep,” he answered. It was still amusing to see people suddenly have to revise their entire evaluation of him in an instant.
“Then why…ah. Because you were a far more dangerous weapon when not suspected. Obvious, really. But why reveal yourself to me now?”
“Because we know you are not one of our enemies, but an ally that we can trust, sir,” Tobimar said. “It makes it much easier to discuss things with you, and I think that by now his secrecy is no longer terribly useful. Our enemy probably has guessed his nature by now.”
Kelsley nodded, contemplating the little Toad with an amused smile. “Well enough. Can you at least tell me the sort of thing you are looking for in our records?”
“We’re looking for any clue as to how to find the Justiciars’ Retreat,” Poplock answered. “I know it’s probably not going to be so simple as finding a map and following it, but this has been the center of the faith since the beginning. Somewhere in those records might be a clue, and we’re just about certain that the Retreat is what our enemy’s using as a base of operations, along with the fallen Justiciars.”
“Of course,” Kelsley said, his cheerful face turning grim, as Poplock suspected it always did when reminded of how the representatives of his faith had been corrupted. “I recall no such traces in my readings, but I will admit that I have never sought such knowledge, so it may be that you are correct. Come.”
He led them from the main temple through a smaller door at the back of the stage where the rituals of the Balance were enacted. This opened into a set of well-lit, wide corridors with several doors opening onto each. Kelsley led them straight on, deeper into the temple, until they came to a set of unadorned doors of polished olthawin, a deep blue wood that Tobimar had only seen once or twice before and never in such large pieces. The doors were clearly ancient, worn in gentle curves where untold thousands of people ha
d passed over the centuries.
The twin doors swung open, revealing a wide, sweeping semicircular room on the right and a doorway on the left. The semicircular room was lined with bookshelves, and other books, scrolls, and artifacts were also in cases spaced around the room.
“These are the archives of Myrionar,” Kelsley said slowly. “It is said that some of the artifacts, if not the records, go back to the days of the founding of the church, Chaoswars ago. A few other valuable records and manuscripts are kept here, in my office,” he opened the door on the left and showed them a large office, with a broad desk, lamps, chairs, and a safe inset into one wall. Normally,” he went on with another smile, “those not of the Faith would not be brought here, but you are an ally of Kyri and have already done our temple a signal service, and continue that service. It is only just that we provide you with all the support we can.”
He crossed to the safe, touched it; the solid metal shimmered, and the door opened. He extracted the contents and placed it on the desk. “You are welcome to search as long as you like, just be appropriately careful with the more ancient and fragile materials. I will be tending to temple business most of the day, and services this evening, and I will give directions that no one disturb you here.”
“Thank you, Arbiter,” Poplock said sincerely. The holy man was certainly going all the way to be helpful, and he certainly could have tried to be a bit sticky about showing any of the really valuable or old materials.
“You are more than welcome. I only hope you find what you are looking for.”
For the next two hours, Poplock and Tobimar scoured the archives. Most material could be instantly dismissed as not bearing on their search, but there was still a lot to look at. Finally, Tobimar brought two stacks of books and papers that seemed to have a fair amount to do with the Justiciars and their activities, and the two settled down to start looking.
After a while, Poplock said “So…what do you want to do about Rion?”
Tobimar started, then looked up from the huge tome he was leafing through. “What? What do you mean, ‘do about Rion’?”
“You’ve noticed a couple of oddities—like me. Right?”
Tobimar shrugged. “Poplock, we know there’s plenty of ‘oddities.’ He’s a construct, made from a piece of Rion’s soul and at least a couple of other things to create his body. It would be pretty much unbelievable if there weren’t oddities.”
“I’m not talking about that kind of stuff,” Poplock said, hearing a slightly injured note in his own voice. He found it was more annoying when Tobimar didn’t get what he was saying than it was when other people didn’t have a clue, probably because he was used to the two of them being in accord. “I’m talking about the little signs he gives of either not being himself, or of knowing things I don’t think he should.”
Tobimar got a thoughtful look on his face; he was silent for a few moments, paging through the book. Poplock continued perusing the large scroll he’d unrolled, hopping from point to point.
“All right, what little signs are you talking about?”
“You first. You must have noticed at least one.”
Tobimar sighed. “Yes. Xavier’s swords.”
“He recognized them.”
“Or that symbol, anyway. Which bothers me, because I’ve never seen that symbol before; it’s similar to the one the Spiritsmith put on mine, but I’ve not seen it, or its like, anywhere else. And Kyri’s seen those swords, and never said anything about that symbol. So where did Rion see it before?”
“Right. So, my turn; he recognized the name Tor for you and Xavier’s fighting style, and it gave him a jolt.”
“You’re right. I remember, he stopped for a split second. A good recovery, but not quite perfect. Anything else?”
“When we were leaving Jenten’s Mill, remember that he and Kyri were talking a little ahead of us?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I was able to catch some of that, and at one point Rion went…kinda blank on her. Couldn’t remember something that was obviously a big deal when they were younger, the roles they always played as kids; she was a Phoenix, he was the Dragon.”
Tobimar stretched, obviously thinking. “Well, he was just a soul fragment, and one slashed from the original by a monster. I think it’s kinda surprising he’s as intact as he is.”
The Toad had to concede that. “More like astonishing, I’d say. Like someone who knew him did the repair job.”
“Well, if Viedraverion’s been playing Jeridan Velion, that might be the case.”
“Hmph. True enough. But about Tor—remember when we were helping put things back together, both Miri and Shae told us that Tor was something that scared demons half to death. Why would Rion get all startled hearing about some martial art no one ever mentioned before? He should have been just thinking ‘oh, some new name I have to remember.’”
He could see that stopped Tobimar for a bit. There was a furrow between the Skysand Prince’s brows as he continued searching through the tome before him.
“Well,” Tobimar said at last, “we know he was made from something demonic, too. What if the soul that was used to provide the structure for Rion wasn’t just a human, but part of a demon? Then he might have some faint memories or reactions from that.”
“Ooo. You know, I hadn’t thought of that.” Poplock pulled a dried beetle out of his pack and chewed thoughtfully for a bit. “Might be true. On the other hand, it might not, which would mean…what?”
Tobimar waited, obviously wanting Poplock to continue; when the Toad simply kept looking at him silently, he cursed. “Shiderich! Fine. It means that there’s at least part of something in there that’s afraid of Tor, a demon probably, and that means that at the minimum Rion isn’t just Rion.”
“And at worst it’s a demon somehow pretending to be Rion. One that somehow can hide its deceptions from both Kyri’s truthsight and Gabriel’s senses, which Aurora says are pretty darn impressive.”
Tobimar’s blue eyes narrowed. “One that’s listening to a lot of what we’re doing.”
“Most of it, actually. Kyri trusts him—and I can’t really blame her. She might be the big ol’ Phoenix Justiciar, but she’s no less a person than the rest of us, and I know I would probably really, really want to believe that someone I loved that much had come back.”
“That’s why you waited until we came here to talk.”
“You see clearly with those squinty eyes. After what happened with Xavier’s sword, I knew Rion wouldn’t want to take a chance on what might happen to him if he walked straight into the actual Temple of Myrionar. And that meant we could have this talk and be absolutely sure neither he, nor Kyri, heard it.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t trust Kyri!”
“When it comes to acting sensible about her brother? Well…yeah, I guess I do trust her, if we can present a good case. She’s honest with herself that way.”
Tobimar looked somewhat mollified. “All right. But Sky and Sand, what a mess this could be. What do you think we should do? Confronting him won’t do any good—we’ve accepted him for a while, and there’s perfectly good excuses for any of these issues, I’m sure. I’d be disappointed by our adversary if there weren’t provisions to explain little lapses.”
Poplock grimaced, rolled up the scroll, dragged over one of the books and started paging through it. “You’re right. Confronting him would be useless unless he’s dumber than a dung beetle, and he’s not.” He thought for a bit, while looking for Justiciar references. They talk a lot about how awesome the Justiciars are, but not much about the practical stuff. “I guess all we can do is make sure he’s never not being watched. Unless he’s a telepath or mindcaster mage, he’s not going to be able to communicate with his boss while around us without us noticing something—and I’m pretty sure he’s neither of those.”
“True. So does that mean we make sure he’s always accompanied?”
“No, no. We need, as I heard a fisherman say once, to let him
wade out far enough to hit the dropoff. If he tries to go off on his own, someone has to follow him and watch him. And as far as I’m concerned, that ‘someone’ has to be me, you, or Xavier. I’m not trusting anyone else.”
“Xavier likes him a lot, though.”
“Saw that, playing that poker game. It’s that brother thing; he knows Rion isn’t really his brother, but he can’t help but feel like there’s a connection there. Still, I think Xavier will go along with it. If he won’t, well, it’s me and you. You in?”
Tobimar hesitated, then nodded. “I’m in. I hope we catch him doing nothing more interesting than taking walks.”
“You and me both, Tobimar, believe me,” Poplock said. “Because if he’s up to something bad, our enemy’s got all the info he needs to trap us.”
Chapter 20
“You lost him? You?” Tobimar couldn’t keep the incredulity from his voice. There was a part of him that felt almost betrayed, and he finally identified it as the same feeling he’d had the first time he realized his mother couldn’t fix everything. Poplock had always been the one who got things done when other people couldn’t.
The diminuitive Toad couldn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah. I lost him.”
“Where?”
“He’d taken a walk into town—stealthily, but that’s no surprise, since we’d all agreed he wasn’t supposed to be seen. Drought! I was sure he didn’t know I was following! But he turned down that same alley across from the Balanced Meal, and when I got there and looked down it, he was gone.”
Tobimar glanced around to make sure his door was closed. “Have any idea how he did it?”
Poplock sighed, then finally faced Tobimar and wrinkled his face. “It was only a few seconds; even if he’d been running I should have seen him going the other way. Hm. Well, he could have gone up, to one roof or the other.”
Tobimar frowned, thinking. “You’re assuming he was limited to ordinary speed. If I use my Tor meditation, or Kyri used her Justiciar power…”
“You’re right.” Poplock smacked his own head with a small hand. “If he’s actually not who he appears to be, he’s probably got a lot of power he hasn’t shown us yet. Stupid.”
