“Where do you think Brandalun really is?” Elandine asked.
“If I knew, I’d tell you, Your Majesty,” replied the First Protector, her voice not quite hiding a faint defensive tone.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I just… miss her.”
Elandine had been furious with Brandalun for fleeing Flora’s death, flying off on another one of her “important quests” rather than face the truth. Yes, Flora had been killed and her mother hadn’t been able to bear the pain. But Elandine was her daughter, too.
Brandalun had run away, looking for some mystical mechanism, abandoning the queendom just when everyone needed her most. When Elandine needed her most.
Just as Elandine had in turn run away, looking for her mother. Just as Elandine, not even the queen dowager, had literally abandoned her rule to a regent after she lost the Ring. She’d had her reasons, but…
She was no better.
She was just like Brandalun.
The truth rolled up over Elandine like a torch flaring to full brightness, or a slowly mounting orchestra reaching its crescendo: she saw everything in herself that she despised in her mother.
They were the same. The same.
“Have I been too severe or unfair when it comes Brandalun?” she asked Navar.
“I’m sure I couldn’t say, my queen.”
They walked. Flora never appeared. Instead of her sister, Elandine thought of her mother for many miles under the moons and stars.
A glow on the horizon was revealed as a massive walled structure as they drew ever closer. Elandine pointed. “There it is. Citadel Hazurrium. We’ve got a bitch regent to unseat and a queendom to take back.”
39: Evaluation
Jason Cole, the Betrayer
War was gone. Jason was merely himself. The Betrayer. Again. The Ring was robbed of almost all its power, hardly more than a trinket. Because Carter was dead again. The man’s return had empowered the Ring, but his second fatality stripped the power of Incarnation from it once more. Was it ironic, or comedic?
He wasn’t laughing.
Instead he smoked, drawing on the stem of an exquisite water pipe one of the Five Princes had shipped down from Mandariel a decade earlier. Which one of those back-biting weasels had sent the gift, he didn’t know or care. Jason sucked in a long breath of smooth smoke, then let the smoke curl out of his lungs. His private chamber was already hazed. None of his homunculi had permission to enter, on fear of death. This place was for him alone.
So he sat, burned tobacco, and remembered.
What is fucking ironic, he thought, was that Carter had been the one who started everything by killing his friends and trapping their minds – betraying them – but somehow Jason was the one saddled with the title of Betrayer! Sure, he and the others had survived in the recursion. But tell that to their parents and friends on Earth. If they had learned the truth, Carter would’ve gotten the chair.
Jason wondered if he would have done the same as Carter? Would he have sacrificed everyone, including himself, to save Earth? He didn’t know, because he’d panicked. He hadn’t understood the full picture. But if he’d known, would he have done what Carter had, the first time around? And again, when he’d entered the Maker’s Hall and pushed back the kray, sacrificing himself in the process?
No. Never in a thousand years would he do that.
“Carter!” he yelled to no one, “I fucking hate you!”
No, you hate yourself, for being such a coward. He always had.
The truth was too uncomfortable to entertain.
His mind skipped away to better times, when he hadn’t been alone. Jason missed his friends. He even missed Carter, at least as the man he’d been before everything soured. Jason hadn’t really had any friends since coming to Ardeyn, except himselves. And he was sick and tired of himselves.
The question he was actually avoiding came to him again. What the hell was he going to do now?
The peace that the smoke sometimes imparted took hold, and he half-closed his eyes. Things hadn’t been a total disaster, after all. Hadn’t he reconnected Ardeyn to Earth? Yes, he had. Maybe not in a way that would allow him to return home in the full glory of the Incarnation of War, no. But a bridge had been forged. Now he had time to figure out how to cross it, even if in a lesser guise. This time, he wouldn’t have to ask the kray for help. Too much horror and fear lay down that path.
War would’ve been up to the task of dealing with them! If only–
Stop it, Jason told himself, and inhaled another breath of blue smoke. He’d tried to let it all go, and hand over everything to War. He’d failed. Nothing was going to change that fact.
So he could either give up, hand over the reins to one of lieutenants, and walk away from Megeddon…
Or he could try again.
40: Celebration
Katherine Manners
The bar light shone amber through Kate’s martini. Its bittersweet bite was familiar. It soothed her. More than anything else, the unique flavor reassured her that she was home, and safe.
“Then what happened?” asked Liza Banks, leaning avidly across the table. Liza was making short work of her second ruby-colored cocktail. Paldridge nursed a glass of something amber colored. They sat in a bar south of Seattle called Shindig. A little far from Kate’s regular city stomping grounds, but not nearly so pretentious, nor crowded, as most places that served specialty drinks to the north. And the martinis were the best.
Kate said, “The next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of the Glass Desert. The kray were gone, all of them. Even the ichor. It was just me, Queen Elandine and that bastard Jason Cole. We blinked at each other like idiots.”
“And Carter? The Maker’s Hall?” asked Paldridge.
Kate shook her head. “Gone. Not even a reflection.”
Liza shook her head. “That must have been something.”
“Everything that happened after Desire went nuclear is hazy. Like I dreamed it. Though I do remember she – we – got into the Hall’s front door… I wanted in, as badly as Desire did. For Raul’s sake. But Carter was ahead of us. He got in front of us, locked us out from accessing the higher functions. It was all so” – she waved her hands – “hard to describe. Metaphysical. Carter said he would take care of the breach. That it was his cost to bear, this time. That he was finally going to be honest about his emotions, and face his fear. Then he melted away.”
Liza wrinkled her nose. “Melted?”
“Yeah. Melted, and released whatever Maker’s essence he’d collected back into the Hall, and into the Land of the Curse. He… I think he sacrificed himself to save Ardeyn. And somehow, to save me, Elandine, and that dick Jason, too. He saved us from drowning in the Incarnations.”
Paldridge coughed and set down his drink with a clink. “So he’s dead?”
“I think so.”
Liza sighed. “Sad. He would’ve been such asset for us.”
Kate snorted. “Sad because a good man died.”
“Of course. Sorry I interrupted,” said Liza.
“It’s OK.”
Liza swirled her drink. “What did you mean by drowning in the Incarnations? I don’t understand.”
“When Carter did his thing, Desire let go of me. She didn’t want to – she just couldn’t hold me anymore. She faded away. Same was true of the queen and Death, and Jason and War. Elandine wasn’t as excited as I’d have expected, but Jason was furious. He wanted to lose himself in War, in all that game-world-made-real insanity. But without Carter around to energize the Rings, things went back to how they were before. The Rings faded to what they had been. The Incarnations still don’t walk Ardeyn. Which seems like a blessing. The whole Age of Myth thing was better as a story than as reality, if Desire was anything to go by.”
Paldridge shook his head, tried another mouthful of his whiskey, then held it up to examine the way the light shone through it.
Kate sipped her martini. The glow from the alcohol in he
r stomach made it all a little easier to relate. The Ring of Desire yet encircled her right index finger. It no longer possessed any particular ability, especially here on Earth. It was mostly an ordinary ring, despite its striking appearance. Ordinary, except for its ability to translate. Having it with her on Earth seemed safer than leaving it behind in Ardeyn, regardless of how little power remained to it.
“What about Raul?” said Liza. “Did he show up again?”
Kate barely nodded. “He re-materialized, afterward, and kept us from killing that fucker Jason. He reminded Elandine and me that without Jason’s help, the kray would’ve overrun us, and that would have been the beginning of the end of everything, not just Ardeyn. I bet we could’ve taken him. With all his plans down the toilet, he was a mess. He would’ve been happy to let us do whatever.”
Liza snorted. “I wish Raul hadn’t stopped you. Jason might have had second thoughts and threw in with the winning side, but let’s not forget he’s the reason everything almost went to hell.”
“Probably. But I can sort of see how it happened… When Desire and I were in the Hall, Carter implied that Jason’s anger wasn’t entirely misplaced, and that Carter had done something bad to Jason. I’m not sure what, but Carter felt guilty about something that happened before. Might be why he wanted to do right by his old pal. Give him another chance.”
“Stupid,” said Liza.
Kate frowned. “Probably, yeah.”
“So did you save Raul?” Paldridge asked. “Or is he…”
“I couldn’t get into the Hall and reincarnate him, or resurrect him, or whatever.”
“Damn,” said Paldridge, and awkwardly reached out to pat her shoulder before letting his hand drop again.
“Yeah. I’m still mad at him, though. He was a spy from some other world in the Strange this whole time, lurking here on Earth. Masquerading as my friend.”
“He was your friend,” Paldridge said. “He pretended to be from Earth, but not how he felt about you. He obviously cared for you.”
A crazy thought struck her – had her inevitable fear of disappointment prevented Kate from pursuing a deeper relationship with Raul? Had she just been afraid to take a risk?
She’d wasted so much time being angry at Raul, feeling like he’d betrayed her by keeping his origin secret, when regardless of what logic dictated, he was still her friend. In fact, she missed the hell out of him, despite how much he’d pissed her off by lying for all those years they’d known each other.
That she was mad at him and missed him desperately at the same time – it was crazy.
Maybe she wouldn’t even be so angry if he didn’t mean something to her….
Moisture welled in her eyes, and she scrubbed at them angrily. She and Raul had never been more than friends. But that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. Even though he was a fucking liar.
“He’s still there, in Ardeyn,” Kate said. “As a ghost. Waiting for me, until the next time I go back. Which I eventually need to do. I owe him, too. I don’t want him to get sucked into Ardeyn’s underworld mythology. Something to do with the Night Vault and Umber Judges.”
“Sounds medieval,” Liza said. “Keeping him safe from that? It sort of makes you a hero.”
Kate discovered she couldn’t speak any more.
They each sat with their own thoughts for a time.
Paldridge ordered another round. After they came, he said, “So, the other thing to remember is that we’re safe. Carter saved us all. Not just you, or even just Ardeyn. It sounds like everyone on Earth owes him.”
“Yeah,” said Kate, grateful to have something else to think about. “Not sure how we’d pay him back though, since I’m pretty sure he’s dead. We should have a wake.”
“I know what we should do,” said Liza. “We dedicate our new organization in his memory. The man gave his life defending the world from planetovores. It only makes sense that the sole group on Earth that knows about the Strange would honor the person who opened our eyes to the threat.”
“So, instead of just the ‘Estate,’ we call it the ‘Carter Morrison Estate?’” asked Paldridge.
“Something like that,” said Liza. “We should work out the details. Maybe some kind of Morrison endowment. But we could still call it the Estate for short.”
“I like it,” said Paldridge.
“Me too,” said Kate, raising her glass. “To the Estate!”
“And to Carter Morrison,” added Paldridge.
“They called him Carter Strange over there,” Kate mused. “In Ardeyn.”
“To Carter Strange!” said Liza.
Kate clinked her glass against Liza’s and Paldridge’s. “To Carter Strange. And hey, who knows? Maybe he’ll be back. He’s come back from the dead before.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks go out to my writing circle for reading and providing feedback on the early chapters of this book – Torah Cottrill, Erin M Evans, Peter Schaeffer, Rob Heinsoo, and Randy Henderson. Thank you Monte Cook and Shanna Germain for suggesting that we write a game based on this then-unfinished novel. Thank you Susan Morris for your always-excellent editorial notes and suggestions for tightening character arcs. Thank you Axel Andrejs for providing coding consultation – all errors that remain are mine. Thank you Phil Jourdan for your editorial notes on pacing. Thanks to Mel Mickael for one last check. And thanks to Ray Vallese for proofing it, and Dennis Detwiller for pulling everything together.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bruce R Cordell is an award-winning writer working as a Senior Designer at Monte Cook Games, where he is an author for The Strange and Numenera roleplaying games. Before that, he wrote for Dungeons & Dragons over four editions and nine novels set in the bestselling Forgotten Realms setting.
brucecordell.com • twitter.com/brucecordell
The Myth of the Maker Page 34
