You sent me on my mission, Jarvorus ventured.
I oversaw your creation from the simple being that I found floating uselessly in a cavern, and I gave you your mission, and prepared you for your journey. You called me Master Rent, before you were born into that other world.
Fragments of memory drifted up into Jarvorus' awed mind. He recalled awakening in the other realm. And before that . . . he found vague memories of life in a cavern, with others of his kind, a gentler and less perilous life. Sometime in between, he'd experienced a time of terrifying transformation, when he'd been changed somehow, and imbued with specific knowledge and instruction and abilities, which had awakened in him upon his rebirth as a warrior. And that must have been when he'd learned of the Nail, and the treachery of the dragons. And now he was again in the presence of his creator and master!
What report do you have for me, brave warrior? asked Master Rent, studying him closely. How have you and the other warriors fared? Do the others guard the human rigger now, while you report?
Jarvorus was suddenly overwhelmed by shame and fear. Master Rent, he confessed, I am the only survivor of the warriors. The others . . . fell to the ifflings.
To the ifflings!
Only one iffling now remains, Jarvorus whispered. The human rigger is . . . in the realm, but not conscious.
The figure of light and shadow approached him, its voice deepening and becoming hypnotic. Show me what has happened, Jarvorus.
The warrior felt an electric touch between them. His memories from the other realm stirred in him, rising and flowing out to the one who made him. He did not speak, nor did he need to.
I see, Rent said, after a few moments.
The warrior-elemental could not tell if his master was pleased or displeased. Should I have done something differently? he asked timidly.
Rent seemed to consider. I might wish that you had not let the iffling live. But even that could have its uses. I perceive that you struggled bravely, and you kept the mission paramount in your thoughts. No, it seems you did well, warrior. But—your work is not yet over. The voice became harder. Much remains for you to do.
I am ready to serve, Jarvorus murmured, though a part of him wanted to cry out that he was tired, and surely he'd done enough already.
He sensed a great pulsing activity within the figure of Master Rent. He sensed that the master was thinking, and perhaps speaking to others, even as he was present here with Jarvorus. Was he planning the next assignment? Jarvorus felt a nervous anticipation—and a growing urgency to return to the vessel carrying the rigger Jael. The iffling was still there, and she should not be left unwatched for long.
You are going to lead the rigger Jael to a place where she may not wish to go, Rent said suddenly. I will give you everything you need to do that. But I have something else for you to do first.
Dare I leave the rigger alone any longer? Jarvorus asked weakly.
Do not question my orders! Rent snapped. I will send others to guard the rigger—and when you return to her, you may command them. But first I require you to perform an errand elsewhere. I wish you to take the form of an iffling when you do so. Can you manage? You seem to have had ample opportunity to observe the ifflings.
Take the form of an iffling? That would be easy enough, as long as only the outward form mattered. Jarvorus bowed in acknowledgment. As he did so, his master flared momentarily, and he felt the sudden, electric touch of Rent delivering words into his mind—a message to be delivered, along with a tiny spell of persuasion. He felt implicitly the instruction that the content of that message was none of his business. Shall I bring the rigger Jael to you afterward? he asked, meaning to acknowledge the instruction.
Rent darkened with anger. You will not! You will do precisely as I say! Is that understood?
Jarvorus bowed again.
Now then, snapped Rent, I will explain what you are to do with the rigger. Pay attention! You will take her to a place I have selected, safe from the dragons. There she will be bound, so that her sorcery cannot . . . interfere . . . with our work. Until the time comes—Rent paused. There was a certain breathless urgency in his instruction, which surprised Jarvorus.
Forgive me, Jarvorus said. But surely you're not afraid that the rigger could hurt us.
Rent's image flared, darkened, flared again. What are you implying, warrior?
Nothing, Master—nothing! Forgive me!
A bolt of lightning flashed through Jarvorus, stunning him more than hurting him. Forgive you? growled Rent. In time, I may. But now, curb your insolence, or I shall return you to the life of a powerless sprite from which you came.
Jarvorus waited fearfully.
The rigger Jael is a powerful sorceress. Until the proper times comes, she must be kept far from the powers and workings of the Nail. Is that understood? Furthermore, she must not be permitted to see or to speak with a dragon, or her powers may become magnified. Rent focused a stern gaze upon the warrior. And you will keep her FAR FROM THIS PLACE, at all times!
Then where—?
SILENCE! You are a clever and ambitious warrior, and that is to your credit—and mine. But you will listen in silence!
Jarvorus listened in silence.
There is a place prepared for her, a place known as the Pool of Visions. It is an ancient place of power, a place long forgotten by the dragons. It is a place where we will begin to take control of the rigger's ambitions and powers, and turn them at last to the final destruction of the dragon threat.
Jarvorus listened in growing awe.
Open yourself now and I will give you all of your instructions. I will teach you to change shape, to become as one more pleasing to her eye, to gain her trust. And I will grant you a power reserved for the most special of my servants. I will bestow upon you the "power of eyes"—a power never before granted to one of your kind. Open yourself, my warrior, and receive.
Jarvorus obeyed. Fearfully, excitedly, he bowed to receive the direct thoughts of his master.
* * *
It was a very long contact. When it ended, Rent seemed to become large before Jarvorus, and yet to draw back. You are released to go. Those warriors who will serve under you have been dispatched. You may go to deliver your message. You know the way.
For an instant Jarvorus thought to speak, then thought better of it. He felt light and dizzy with new thoughts. He bowed his flame in acquiescence and backed away from his master and creator.
Rent disappeared behind a veil of fog. Behind Jarvorus, the darkness of a passage opened, and he felt himself turning and jumping outward through the realm beneath the realm.
* * *
Hodakai was as nervous as a sprite keeping a secret. Ever since he'd talked to that dragon Windrush, he'd been out of his mind with anxiety. He had tried to escape into fantasies of rigging, but found it impossible. Here, he'd as good as promised Windrush that he would serve as a spy, but now he was anything but certain that he wanted to go through with it.
It hadn't helped to have the dragon's visit interrupted by Rent. It was positively demonic, the way Rent seemed able to sense when Hodakai was feeling anxious. He didn't think Rent had actually seen the dragon; but Hodakai was a poor liar, and knew it. Rent hadn't stayed long, had said he merely wanted to see how Hodakai was doing, and to offer him a little more time to make his decision. Hodakai was virtually certain that Rent had some other purpose in mind, but if so, he had gone away without revealing it.
Now, just a little later, Hodakai felt the underweb trembling with another visitor arriving. For an instant, he thought it was the dragon returning. But to his astonishment, what appeared was neither the dragon nor Rent; it was an iffling. An iffling?
The being floated in his presence like a sprite—but more than a sprite. It was more somber, and clearly more intelligent, than a sprite. It spoke his name softly, even in the quiet of the cavern, though there was no one else around to hear. Hodakai, it said.
Hodakai could not imagine why an iffling would visit him.
He hardly knew what to say. Finally he just said: Iffling?
The thing floated closer. Something about it seemed a little odd, but he could not say what. The truth was that he had seen very few ifflings in his life, and for all he knew, they came in as many shapes and styles as humans in his own universe. This one glimmered with a particular intensity. Hodakai, we must speak. Though its voice was soft, it commanded attention.
About what? Hodakai murmured.
About your relationships with certain dragons, whispered the iffling.
D-dragons? Hodakai, though he had no body, nevertheless felt a breath-holding reflex take over. He pulsed with self-consciousness. Wh-what dragons?
Come, Hodakai. We both know about it. Why deny it?
Hodakai was stunned. How many people in this wretched land knew about it when he talked with Windrush? I guess I have had some conversations, he said finally. But what of it? It was dragons who captured me. Why shouldn't I have conversations with them?
The iffling glimmered. I do not say that you shouldn't, Hodakai. Far from it. But the question is, do you understand how they are planning to deceive you? That's what I came to warn you about.
What do you mean?
For a moment or two, the iffling remained silent. It floated before him, making him very nervous. He had no great love for ifflings, but when it came down to it, the one thing he'd always heard about them was that they were truthful. Irksome, yes. Capricious, yes. A nuisance, yes. But truthful.
Hodakai, are you aware that the dragons have summoned another human to this realm?
What?
And that they have done so for the sole purpose of cementing their private stranglehold on this world?
You mean the Tar-skel dragons?
Listen to me, Hodakai! I'm talking about the dragons who oppose the Nail!
Hodakai fell silent before the flamelike iffling. He was stunned, and bewildered. If this creature was speaking the truth, then he had just been made a fool of by Windrush.
Don't you see that they're planning to betray you?
Who?
The dragons who have been visiting you! They're trying to enlist your help against the other side, aren't they?
But I thought—He hesitated. Well—
The iffling pulsed.
Hodakai felt as though a cottony web were closing around him. I suppose, yes, they are, he said dully. Not that I've listened to them.
Of course not, because you are perceptive. You sensed that their purpose in seeking your trust, in appealing to your better nature as a human, is to further enslave you.
I . . . Hodakai struggled to find words. It was Rent who was trying to enslave him, not the dragons—wasn't it? Or was it the other way around? Why couldn't he think?
Hodakai, we ifflings are a peaceful folk. But one thing that makes us angry is untruthfulness! These dragons claim to fight for freedom. And yet, they seek to enslave an innocent person like you!
Hodakai bobbed in confusion. It was true that the dragons had always made him suspicious. They always seemed to want something, but never could he remember them offering anything in return. They controlled his life and his death. Except for a few pitiful spells they had left in the cavern, he was helpless here.
Unless, of course, he joined up with the other side.
Hodakai—you must not be without hope.
What do you mean? Can you free me?
Not I. You. You can free yourself, replied the iffling. Free yourself from bondage. Defeat them at their own game. Join with those who would never betray you!
Hodakai felt his soul churning. Who was he to believe? I always thought you ifflings and dragons were friends! Why are you coming and telling me this, if you're friends? I don't get it.
The iffling floated backward for a moment. Hodakai felt an odd rustling in the underweb, and for just an instant felt a breath of clarity. A moment later, the iffling floated toward him again, and that cottony feeling returned. You must understand. To us, right and truth are more important than passing friendships. The iffling's voice sounded aggrieved. It is true that we have had friendships with dragons. But when those same dragons abandoned truth, in favor of their own selfish wants . . .
Almost against his will, Hodakai found his own anger returning—a very old anger. Anger against those who had trapped him in this universe and killed his only shipmate. He remembered all the times that dragons had lied to him, promising to set him free, and humiliated him, before leaving him here alone to rot with the cavern sprites. And to think that he'd almost decided to trust one of them! That worm Windrush—if that was even his real name!
If you're wondering what you could do—
Yes! he cried.
The iffling drew close. If you have their trust already, there are many ways to deal with betrayal. May I suggest that you treat them as they treated you.
They're liars, Hodakai whispered.
Indeed. And I suggest that you reflect their own lies back upon them. My guess, Hodakai, is that they have asked you to serve as their spy.
Hodakai acknowledged with an embarrassed flicker that that was true.
Then you hold a potent weapon in your hands, rigger-spirit. When they come to you for information, give them misdirection instead. What better way to help us end this struggle!
I don't care a damn about the struggle, Hodakai said. I'll tell you that right now.
Nor do we. Except to end it.
Hodakai was startled. Well, if that Windrush tries anything . . .The iffling brightened at the sound of the dragon's name. You are wise, rigger. Most wise. If I may be so bold as to make an offer . . .Of course.
We would be pleased to provide you with misdirection to thwart the dragons' efforts. Would you like us to do this?
Yes. Thank you, he whispered.
You are welcome. I trust you would not mind if, on occasion,we passed this information to you through an intermediary? Such as your friend Rent?
Rent? he thought in amazement. Rent? But I—I don't—
Be assured that you may trust Rent implicitly.
I—His words choked off, leaving him speechless. Rent? He was going to have to trust Rent? Perhaps he had misjudged the man. Was it possible that the iffling knew more about Rent than he did?
Is that agreeable? the iffling asked.
Hodakai, feeling slightly . . . stunned . . . finally flickered his assent.
Thank you. And now, Hodakai, I must go. You will hear from us again soon.
So long, Hodakai whispered, as the iffling slowly faded into the underrealm. He stared after it for a long time, before turning his thoughts inward. As he remembered Windrush, his thoughts burned with humiliation. He had come so close to agreeing to help the dragon. Well, he would show it. Yes, he would. Truth and justice, not dragons, would prevail if he had anything to do with it.
* * *
Jarvorus slipped through the underrealm like a breath of wind, returning by an instinct he didn't even know he had, directly to the place where he had left the riggers unconscious in their cocoons of energy. He was mystified, but pleased, by his successful mission on behalf of Master Rent. In his guise as an iffling, the words had come to him as needed, welling up out of his unconscious like waters from an underground stream. Rent, exactly as he had promised, had provided him with everything he had needed to deliver the message to that terribly strange rigger-being, Hodakai—along with the ludicrously simple spell of persuasion.
If he didn't precisely understand the reasons for that mission, he put the question out of his thoughts now. He had his primary mission to think of, and that was to lead Jael to the Pool of Visions.
Emerging from the underrealm near the spaceship, he found all as he had left it—except for the presence, glimmering in the hills on all sides of the ship, of the new warrior-sprites sent here by Rent. They were watching, doing nothing. Excellent.
Jarvorus moved past them to take charge once more.
Chapter 22: A Battle in the Dark
It
seemed as though half the night had passed, by the time Windrush gave up on sleep and blinked his eyes open to the dark form of the draxis in the cold hearth. He sighed. It was useless. There was too much to do, too much to learn. Too many duties weighing on his mind, including the many dragon guardian holds he knew he ought to inspect as leader. He thought of the minor lumenis groves throughout the held land, each with loyal dragons standing watch; and the Grotto Garden of the Forest Mountains, to the south, perhaps the only surviving dragon garden in the realm; and the Deep Caverns, far to the east, where powerful, ancient spell-weavings were now only a memory, but a potent memory . . .
Dragon Rigger Page 23
