Ceinwyn managed to finally get some air into her lungs. Big ol’ full breath. Poug and I just watched her as she went for a second and third, slowly calming down.
“Strange clothes,” Poug commented.
“Nightwear,” I said.
Ceinwyn belatedly tightened her silk robe so there was no chance of anyone ever seeing a piece of skin, even from her long legs. “King Henry, please explain . . . somehow.”
“Welcome to the Geo Realm,” I told her. “Thankfully the dragon is on the other side of their world. Yosemite, you believe that shit? What you bet if he ever breaks out that the first person he eats will be some Japanese tourist screaming ‘Godzilla!’?”
“This is not funny!” she actually snapped at me. “I feel . . . it’s . . . it’s like I’m missing . . .” Now it wasn’t her words but her eyes snapping open. “Why can’t I pool anima?”
“It’s a Realm made up of geo-anima. It’s heavy,” I explained to her, not a total asshole even if I was enjoying seeing her out of her element. “Means mancers with lighter anima disciplines can’t pool here. Was a bitch even for T-Bone and Val’s like you, got nothing going. No idea what happens to spectromancers still, since T-Bone won’t let me test it on Vicky. Odds are they implode into a cloud of sparkles, sunshine, and rave lasers.”
Her mind seemed to be settling into her new reality. Val always said I was so quick at it that it made her jealous. Ceinwyn ain’t bad for a middle-aged woman, secure in her power as a Maximus, not anticipating being surprised by anything the world can throw at her ever again.
Surprise, fucking surprise, expectations slapping Ceinwyn Dale upside the face. Can you believe this shit?
“How?” she asked, just like in Val’s apartment.
My answer was the same, wiggling the length of jade in my hand. “World-Breaker. Understand the name now? Understand why the Vamps want them hidden or destroyed?”
“Good Mancy, King Henry,” she gasped, hands at the side of her head, “Maybe Nii-Vah will try to kill you. Maybe they’ll all try to kill you.”
“Let’s hope it don’t come to that,” I said, still not sure how I would survive the evil empire’s inevitable strike back if they ever found out I had the Jinshin Ken. “But anyway . . . this is the Geo Realm. Best I can figure, the World-Breaker somehow creates a keyhole for the person using it to slide on through. You can travel from place to place with it, but experiments haven’t been very healthy so far. Meteyos sure can throw you about if he desires it though.”
“Meteyos . . . the fairy from the Camping Test. You said he’s a dragon?”
“Don’t worry . . . he’s locked up in a cave.”
“For now,” Poug couldn’t help himself.
Ceinwyn glanced at him again, shaking her head like that might make him go away.
“I knew Meteyos could move me distances quickly, because I talked to him once more at the Asylum when Plutarch buried me in dirt as a punishment. So when we were desperate to find Christmas, I had Estefan and Jason bury us, thinking I’d go to the place of dreams were I could hear his voice. Ever been to the aeromancer version of that perchance?”
“Once or twice,” was all Ceinwyn muttered, mostly to herself. She couldn’t look away from Poug.
“Was a bit surprised when Val and me popped out here in a cave . . . or that the fairy I had been talking to was actually a dragon,” I kept explaining. Guess it is my turn, ain’t it? What you know, this time I’m the one winning show-and-tell. “Made a deal with him to take us to Christmas, only it wasn’t a direct travel through the In-Between. It was overland in the Geo Realm, since this place is smaller and twists and . . . it’s complicated. We arrived at a crossroads to find Poug waiting for us. He serves Meteyos and was taught English just for when that meeting would take place. Some still follow the dragon as a Great One; others have turned from believing in him. Poug travels the Geo Realm protecting the faithful as a kind of templar.
“His kind call themselves the Sawaephim, or Black Elves, but our legends have morphed it all into dwarves, according to Val’s fantasy-loving, perfectly-shaped ass. I don’t trust Meteyos or his motives, but Poug is a friend. He led us through the wilds and villages quickly and safely. Thanks to him we were able to save Christmas.
“Thanks to me, I fought off the Curator while Val escaped with the kids. I lost. Almost dead, I activated the World-Breaker’s anima reserves to cause an earthquake and bring down the warehouse. Meteyos was able to pull me out and again zip me all the way to the Asylum. You know the rest.”
“I don’t know even close to the rest!” Ceinwyn complained.
“I didn’t use the World-Breaker again until six months ago . . . that’s when I started training for this Vault job. Also when I really started Massey Baiting. The World-Breaker, it’s not easy to notice, not easy to find. I think . . . maybe it wants a Maximus to use it. Not sure . . . try not to think about how it might have ideas of its own. Having Mini around as Meteyos’ spy is bad enough, ya know? So . . . anyway, I snuck it into the Pit with me and now I’ve got about the best alibi ever for robbing all the Guild’s hidden knowledge. Enough explanation?”
Ceinwyn shoulders set as she composed herself. “Enough, yes. I also take back every nice thing I’ve ever said about how I like it when you surprise me.”
“You’ll enjoy it by the time we’re done.”
“I can’t pool . . .”
“Val liked it.”
“She still fears what she is and the responsibility of it. I don’t.”
“Oh, my manners ain’t so good,” I grumbled as I swung a hand towards Ceinwyn for Poug’s benefit. “My mentor, Ceinwyn. She’s the Queen of Air—”
“Fates,” Ceinwyn corrected.
“—Fates and Head of Recruiting for the Institution of Elements. Means she has a seat to vote with our leaders. She also is tangentially on Team Don’t Lick the Vamp Clit.”
“That is a horrible name,” Ceinwyn pointed out like just about every other team member had.
Poug moved closer to Ceinwyn, much more warily than he had when he first met Valentine. “What is recruiting?” he asked of her.
“I find as many mancer children as I can and see they’re kept safe and taught about their gifts,” she explained.
Poug nodded, liking this answer. “A noble calling. You are not . . . what I imagined you to be. Any more than what you imagined me to be, Queen of Fates.”
“And how did you imagine me?”
“Harsh . . . even cruel . . . surely not beautiful,” Poug stated candidly.
The first Ceinwyn Dale smile of the Geo Realm blossomed and it very much cut at Poug. “I’m too old for pleasantries or for your pretty face to work so easily, you suave, black-skinned bastard.”
Poug grinned shamelessly. “As I recently told the King of Dirt, I am two-hundred and twenty-three, and neither have failed me yet. I imagine they work on you more than you admit.”
“Not at all, so you should consider our meeting a first in many ways then,” Ceinwyn warned him.
Poug’s nod was much quicker this time, more animated. “The Great One has commanded me to keep the King of Dirt safe while he travels our world, I have done the same for the Queen of Fire and I shall do the same for you. The Great One has informed me you are of the Line of the Dale, is this true?”
Ceinwyn squinted. “You can hear him? The dragon?”
“Yes, why should this be strange? Have you never heard the call of Tankakanze when you’ve slept in one of your airplanes?”
Ceinwyn expression said that she had. An expression that said her opinion about Tankakanze was about the same as mine of Meteyos. “And you accept his intrusion?”
“I accept his wisdom. Mancers have their kings and queens, the races and fairies of the elements have their dragons. That is as it should be, should it not?”
Thoughts flew behind Ceinwyn’s eyes for a long while, before she eventually said, “Yes, I am a Dale. The Last True Dale, they call me. Will you strike me down
now, holy warrior? Will you see if prophecy spoke as true as my line and if my death brings about the end of the world?”
The lance in Poug’s hand seemed a whole lot more ominous suddenly. Especially since I’d never figured out exactly what the mechanism on its end did with the blade. “If you are the last Dale, I need only wait,” Poug returned slowly. “Also, Dale or not, you are the King of Dirt’s mentor and ally . . . and a protector of children. You are much more complicated than I assumed you to be. Would that it was like in the old legends, a simple fable of right and wrong, then I would strike you down. But, no . . . I think I would rather kiss you.”
Ceinwyn Fucking Dale blushed.
Holy fuckballs.
“Never a good idea to let prophecy run your life,” I eventually said to fill the awkward silence.
Poug laughed like I said something outrageously funny. I assume I have about a billion prophecies about me I’ve never heard. Don’t want to hear them either, stupid ass things. Had one of my own and it was gibberish. Talking about fucking dogs and red fruits and shit. What kind of screwed up autistic motherfuckers study those things like they’re the secret to the universe?
When I didn’t laugh as well, Poug asked, “Still searching for the truth, King of Dirt?”
My turn to nod. “Ceinwyn gave me much of it and Val helped me find even more, but there’s still some left to be stolen, I think.”
“This valley grows dangerous, for you and for those who inhabit it,” Poug warned, glancing towards the mountain where Meteyos’ message to me remained. “One of the farmers sent his children south on a donkey. Slaying them would have been the only way to keep news of you contained, so I let them live and the story has spread to nearby settlements. It won’t be much longer before people seeking the Great One’s message arrive.”
“I’m almost finished here,” I tried to ease his fears. “Tonight and maybe tomorrow. If you want to see me after that you’ll need to travel back towards your Great One.”
“A dangerous journey, but a worthy one to make if it means protecting the King of Dirt. Will you be racing ahead of me again then? Perhaps you could leave the Queen of Fates behind with me to keep her company?”
“Would you stop already!” Ceinwyn growled at him.
I grinned some canines. “Of course I have to show off and sorry, but she’ll be with me.”
“Alas, I am deprived of such fine company! Perhaps I have misunderstood this word ‘mentor.’ When I catch up with you, should I expect to find the both of you disrobed and rutting or is that merely an activity you perform with the Queen of Fire?” Poug asked not-so-innocently.
Ceinwyn only barked a laugh. “I apologize that you had to see such an absurd display.”
“It was all in service to a greater cause,” Poug actually deadpanned.
“She’s like my aunt, you can’t just say shit like that to her, you Black Elf fuck!” I actually got mad at him. “You’re gonna put me into therapy. And stop hitting on her! No means no.”
“I do not know what ‘therapy’ is,” Poug kept playing dumb. “But it sounds like I also belong there after having heard you call the Queen of Fire a ‘naughty girl.’”
[CLICK]
Ceinwyn took to geo-surfing a lot less like it was a roller-coaster and a lot more like it was a double-decker bus ride through the streets of London. Guess it fit though. Ceinwyn Dale, for all her drive and power had never been an in-the-wild kind of person. In another time, another world, she would’ve been a debutante. Riding in carriages, pampered by servants. She had a lot more in common with the Old Mancy families than I liked to admit. Was a lot more Old Mancy than I liked to admit.
She was Ceinwyn . . . she was on my side again, but I still couldn’t see her getting dirty while trekking out in the woods, or hopping on the back of a motorcycle, or queuing up at Six Flags. Sure, she traveled to exotic places, took plenty of risks in bringing mancers to the Asylum, but I had never pictured her doing so in any way but the most elegant one. Even on the cross-country trip we took together, it was always the nicest hotel rooms possible, with a fully decked out luxury car during the day. Only time she slummed it was with food, and even then only if it was Mom and Pop specials.
She rode on the dirtboard like it was a chariot and I was her steed. Hand clasped on my belt, leaning back behind me. Eyes on the land and the mushrooms, quickly catching sight of any strange wildlife that might cross our path. She took my binoculars from me and her gaze lingered on the farmstead with the waterwheel when we got a clear view of it, just like Val had. Not easy viewing even all the way up here, but clear enough that you could see black-skinned Sawaephim moving about on the property.
“Why does it feel so wrong?” she eventually whispered, mostly to herself.
“Tweet fucking tweet,” I told Ceinwyn.
Her face broke out in surprise. “No birds! Of course!”
“Got some of the stuff we do, especially all sorts of pigs, but nothing that properly flies above the ground,” I explained. “We’re back in the 1700s basically, some tech, not exactly on the lines that Earth took. Great mechanical knowledge, lacking in the chemical or biological. They still ride horses . . . or bears.”
“Bears?”
“I’ve seen it myself or I’d think Poug was pulling my dick.”
“What else have you seen?” Ceinwyn asked, rightly skeptical about it all.
“Not much here, just this valley. Fresno comes out in the middle of a mushroom forest. Lot more animals in that . . . steeltusks and these weird armadillo-wolfs. Very Robin Hood and his merry, pointy-eared men. Village to the north, about where Visalia is at, but T-Bone would never let me visit.”
“You brought Tyson here?”
“Told you he knew about it!” I yelled back over my shoulder.
“I thought you meant the artifact, not that. Good Mancy, you’re a worse influence than I ever could have imagined . . .”
“Your fault. Know you put us together so I could get him out of his shell and so he could calm me down. Who knew T-Bone had so much rebel in him, eh?”
Felt her shake her head behind me. “Losing your foresight, Winny,” I heard her mumble to herself.
Don’t think she knew I could hear her, so I ignored it, kept on with my tour guide spiel. “Not sure about San Francisco because Meteyos dragged us to his cave in Yosemite. We traveled for a good eight hours to reach Seattle. Space is weird here. Crossed some hamlets and through a village then. Seem like people, if not the right species. Farmers, crafters, guards. Only got to glance around from under a pilgrim’s robe though. Do know they use diamonds as pennies, that’s something, eh?”
“What kind of armed forces?”
“No invasion force if that’s what you’re after.”
“Don’t you dare go native on me, King Henry.”
“No chance of that. First: I’d look like shit with pointy ears. Second: they ain’t got Dr. Pepper . . . or porn. Don’t think the Sawaephim are angels, Ceinwyn, but Amarusa and the Divines are full of shit that these people are some orc-like great evil want to wipe us all out. Not saying if they caught us they wouldn’t torture us to death, burn us at the stake as a betrayer or something, but even the Vamps themselves aren’t without motives or doing evil for evil’s sake.”
Pretty sure she rolled her eyes at the back of my head. “I admit there’s more to her version of events than the Learning Council has been led to believe, are you happy?”
“A little.”
“We still shouldn’t be here. You’ve gotten secrets from the Guild, from me, what more do you want?”
I stayed silent, thinking about that. Why do it? Why keep risking discovery by using the World-Breaker now?
“Telling you about the Quota wasn’t all, you know,” Ceinwyn offered. “Now that I’ve recognized you, I can train you like you always wanted . . . if you still want me to. Surely it’s a better idea to focus on defeating Alexander and his strong-arming than to risk revealing this exists, or that we exist
to the local inhabitants. After Alexander is pacified, we’ll return to the school and face the Lady. You might not get everything you want, but there will always be a future for you at the Institution, King Henry, and for Valentine as well.”
Sounded like a fairly good outcome for my plan, I have to admit.
Lot better than what it imploding would look like.
Wasn’t sure what to do with all the new wisdom and wretchedness of knowing, but I was as far away from that moron just graduated who don’t even know about extended pooling as I’d ever been. Light years beyond fourteen-year-old-me, who considered a good day one where he punched another kid in the face and pulled a five minute grunting and humping session with Sally Hendrickson after school.
King Henry Price . . . Maximus . . . Glassbreaker.
Crashing the Asylum’s gates.
Pissing in Massey’s ear.
Hunting down the Curator’s secret lair. Can’t forget that.
So . . . why keep coming?
“Not sure what I’m looking for now . . . but I’m hoping I’ll know it when I see.”
Maybe it’s simple. Maybe it’s cuz every time I do it, I’m defying Fate.
If King Henry Price don’t defy, then what is he?
[CLICK]
Turns out it was Ceinwyn who knew it when she saw it.
On stepping into the Vault, Val had focused on the bookshelves at my urging and I’d been naturally drawn to the artifacts, but it was neither of those for Ceinwyn. She gave a small sigh on returning to the Earth, immediately pooling anima. A spare curious glance for Excalibur, but no fascination in it. Not for the legendary sword of Arthur, not for any of the other artifacts. What drew Ceinwyn’s attention were the walls of the Vault.
Maps and paintings and stretched parchments, all covered in that thick security glass and almost too old and raggedly held together to be put on display. Not a one of them had I seized upon as important. Just old rags in foreign languages. Worse, old rags in dead languages. Nah, I wanted books on what a Maximus could do or more about the Divines. Maybe even books on Were Totems or anima concentrations or golems . . . or, or, or, plenty of better loot to be had, surely. Something called “World-Breaking for Dummies” would be just peachy.
The Pit of No Return (The King Henry Tapes Book 6) Page 44
