Choice (Majaos Book 3)

by Gary Stringer

  “That's unfair!” Phaer protested. “Even if sex work is considered a crime, a child isn't responsible for their parents' actions!” He should know - he was the son of a dark elf who saw humans as nothing more than breeding animals at best, a disease at worst and basically despised Phaer's very existence.

  “Unfair it is,” Eilidh accepted, “but there are - were historical reasons why it was so.” She couldn't get used to referring to Merlyon in the past tense now that it was gone. "Not good reasons, but reasons all the same."

  “What reasons?” “I'll get to that,” Eilidh promised. “Anyway, yes, I was despised as a leper, seen as an unclean thing an assessment not without some degree of truth.” She broke off, and asked, “Phaer, could I have a glass of water, please?”

  Phaer got up immediately. “Of course,” he said. He went to fetch some and when he returned, he swapped his chair for a seat next to Eilidh on the sofa. Others might refuse to be near her because of where she came from; he would not. He knew very well what it was to be an outcast. He would not treat someone else that way.

  “As I said,” she continued after causing the glass to float in mid-air so she could take a sip of the cool liquid. “There are two main hazards in the life of a sex worker. The first is unwanted pregnancy; the second is disease - the myriad of sexual infections that attack those women and their many partners. Some are a minor, if embarrassing, irritation, while others are serious and incurable. My mother contracted one of the latter - a disease so strong that it was able to overcome the best defences of her womb and enter my blood before I was born.”

  She paused again for another drink. Phaer didn't know what to say, so he just put a comforting arm around Eilidh’s shoulders and stayed silent.

  “It's ironic,” Eilidh considered. “At the same time that my mother gave me life, she also gave me death.” She took a few more sips of water to compose herself before continuing. “OK, that was a bit dramatic,” she allowed, attempting a weak smile. “The truth is, there are no symptoms in its dormant state so it affects me in no way whatsoever. Sure, it might flare up tomorrow or next month or next year...but then again I may never develop symptoms and simply die of old age. I just don't know.”

  “Without wanting to sound callous, Eilidh,” Phaer broached, carefully, “surely that’s true of all of us. We all like to think we’re going to live to a ripe old age, but even the war aside, there are no guarantees.” Eilidh pulled away and Phaer was worried he’d made a terrible mistake saying that. To his surprise, however, Eilidh’s face lit up. “Exactly!” She cried out. “That’s the whole point! I’ve waited my whole life for someone to realise that. The way peoplereact to my condition is far worse than the condition itself.”

  “I get that,” her friend assured her. “I really do.”

  Eilidh could scarcely believe what she was hearing. The way Phaer was acting, he was making it almost…easy to talk about. Settling back down, however, she grew serious once more.

  “The really interesting thing about my condition,” she said, “is that it's not entirely natural.”

  “What do you mean?” Phaer asked. He thought it was so like Eilidh to examine her own disorder as an intellectual puzzle. “It's magically modified. It began as an ordinary sexual disease, but a magical component was added to give it extraordinary properties. You see, Phaer, Mythallen hasn't always been the unified, co-operative continent it is today, Avidon aside. In centuries past there was war. Among these was the conflict between the two leading cities: Shakaran and Merlyon. I suppose it was inevitable. Both supreme powers in their own ways, very different ways. Many weapons were devised during this time, until the mages of Merlyon came up with the idea of using people as weapons.

  “Shakaran was a warrior's city then as now, and it was a well -known saying that `warriors and whores go together like flies and dung`. The archdruids of Merlyon created the magically modified disease that I now carry. It remains dormant in females for years, but if it activates, death is swift and certain. It is completely incurable.

  “For infected males, it's different: activa tion is immediate and death comes swiftly: two weeks, maybe three - always less than a month. Just enough time for a sexually active male to spread it to other sexual partners. They in turn may, quite unknowingly, infect others. So it was that during this war, the Merlyon government secretly infected a number of sex workers. Then they declared that sex outside marriage was to be outlawed, all brothels closed down. All sex workers were banished from the city with nothing but the clothes on their backs. Many of them came ragged, starving and desperate to Shakaran, and the warriors weren't about to turn them away. The weapons were in place and I guess, despite the intervening centuries, those old laws were never repealed and cultural attitudes remained entrenched within that bubble of magic. Not they deserved to wiped out for that, of course.”

  “I take it Merlyon won the war, then?” Phaer asked, thinking it healthier for Eilidh to think about historical events rather than dwell on the all-too-recent destruction of her home. “Actually no,” the Catalyst told him. “Shakaran's armies were devastated, most of their male warriors dead or dying and who knew how many females were infected! But you've seen what the people are like here and their ancestors were just the same. They refused to be beaten. If their city guard couldn't fight, the people would do it themselves: the farmers, the blacksmiths, the merchants. And while no cure was ever found, they did develop effective screening and quarantine methods that brought the disease under control. It was even thought to have been eradicated at one time, but a few isolated cases still exist. Female children of infected mothers invariably carry the disease. Male offspring don't live long - in fact most are stillborn.

  “Anyway, Phaer,” the Catalyst concluded at last, “you’ve been a fantastic listener, but none of this excuses what I did earlier. I just wanted you to know the reason why I had to stop you. Please understand: I really like you Phaer, and I’d love to be with you but I can't. Not now, not ever. Not like that. I wanted it so badly that I could almost forget, but only almost. The reality is, I'm a human being, yes, but I'm also a weapon. If I let you make love to me, you will become infected and you will die. Not might. Will.”

  The tears returned at this point. She couldn't hold them back any longer.

  Phaer reached out to her. “Ssshhh,” he soothed. “It's alright.” Eilidh pulled away. “No it isn't!” she screamed. “Don't you understand? Don't you see what I almost did to you? You didn't know what I was, but I did! I knew the consequences, and for a moment I wanted to do it anyway! Phaer I tried to murder you!”

  Phaer stood and gently but firmly took her hands in his. “Look at me,” he said, when she avoided his gaze. “Look at me!” he insisted. This time she complied with fire in her eyes, not water. “You did no such thing. The elves - even my people - believe that love is part of life and to strive for love is to embrace life. There's nothing more rational than that. It was a natural instinct for you to want to choose life for yourself, but when the moment came you used your head and did the right thing.”

  “But-”

  “What you did is what matters, not what you nearly did, and you did nothing wrong.”

  Eilidh gave a wry smile,“That's what Ganieda said.”

  On a day of shocks, Phaer had not imagined anything more could surprise him. This did. “Ganieda? Faerie Ganieda? What - here? When?-” He didn't know what to ask first.

  Eilidh laughed. “I-”

  The door to Phaer's quarters burst open and Rochelle practically fell into the room. “Phaer! Oh, hi Eilidh! You -Ooops, sorry,” she apologised, misinterpreting why Eilidh and Phaer were holding hands and gazing into each other's eyes. “Ummm...I guess I should have knocked...um...” The gnome stood frozen in mid-step, not knowing what to do.

  Eilidh giggled - another surprise for Phaer who would have expected her to be embarrassed.

  “It's OK, Rochelle,” the Catalyst assured her. “I think we've sorted everything out here.” She
looked at Phaer for confirmation. He nodded.

  “Oh…good,” Rochelle said, uncertainly. Dismissing the issue, she shared her news. “They're back.”

  Eilidh was instantly attentive. “Which group?” she asked. “Both,” the gnome replied. “Toli's group were first, and then before they could tell their tale, the Knights returned. Well, two of them, anyway. Tanya stayed behind.”

  “Callie? Brash?” Phaer enquired.

  Rochelle nodded.“They're back, too.”

  “Good,” Eilidh said. “That's the almost whole company back together.”

  “All bar Loric,” Rochelle agreed.

  Eilidh was confident that her teams would have been successful. With their information, Rochelle would locate the Inter-Realm Gateway to the Well of Life. This was it, the final piece of the puzzle.

  “Come on then,” said Eilidh, encouragingly, as she stood. All business-like again, she ushered Rochelle and Phaer out of the door. “Let's go and see our friends. It’s time to finish this.”

  Chapter 22

  It was an almost complete party that assembled in Rochelle's study room. The room was barely large enough, in fact, to accommodate so many, but if that deterred them from lingering any longer than necessary, then it was all to the good, as far as Eilidh was concerned. They were about to begin, when they were interrupted by none other than Prince Garald himself.

  “Sorry for barging in like this,” he apologised.

  “Not at all Your Grace,” Eilidh replied, dismissing it. “This is your castle, after all.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” Phaer agreed. “We're the ones who have barged in.” “Ah, Phaer!” the prince said with a beaming smile. “I haven't yet had the opportunity to thank you for your part in rescuing my daughter.” He stepped forward and firmly shook the half-elf's hand. “If there’s anything you need, anything you want, anything at all within the boundaries of Shakaran, it's yours.”

  Phaer bowed his head, respectfully. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  “Does that apply to all of us?” Bunny asked, petulantly.

  Phaer was convinced she only did that to wind people up. I’m sure she just enjoys watching us cringe!

  In truth, the sumorityl was upset at losing out on her date with Tanya. She had been shocked to learn that while it felt like their quest had taken only a few hours, in fact several days had passed.

  “Time was obviously moving faster in that place,” Toli had explained, remembering her chat with Eilidh in the Gold Crypt. "Until Callie showed up and Granite took control of the Temporal Trap." In spite of that, though, her group had still arrived first, so Bernice had won her bet, but her `victory` felt a bit hollow when Tanya chose not to return. For Bunny, falling back on her old repartee was her way of dealing with unfamiliar emotions.

  “Of course,” affirmed the Prince, taking it in all good part. “Do you have something specific in mind?”

  “Well, can I have-” “-I think you have already, haven't you?” Garald interrupted.

  Bunny snapped her fingers as if suddenly remembering something. “Ask first, and thentake,” she

  remarked. “I'm always getting those the wrong way ‘round.”

  “I suggest ye work on it, lass,” Granite grumbled. “It's a bad habit!”

  Prince Garald shook his head. “On this occasion, it's no problem. My daughter is back with me, safe and well and happy. For that, Miss Ardra could take my entire castle.”

  “Don’t tempt her!” Rochelle warned. “Oh no, I couldn't do that!” Bernice disputed. “That would be stealing! Besides, I couldn't possibly carry that much stuff, and as a piece of real estate it’s worthless – who on Majaos would I sell it to?”

  The prince smiled, but then it faded. “Ah well,” he sighed. “I'm afraid world events demand my attention. I actually only came here to deliver a message to Dark Knight Officer Sir Quentin Marr.”

  “Delivering a message by thine own hand?” Quentin wondered. “I am most honoured, Your Grace.”

  “Not a bit of it. Doing this simple thing was a welcome break, I assure you.”

  He handed the Dark Knight a sealed document, which the black armoured warrior opened and examined. Quickly reading its contents, he thanked the prince, who promptly left the room. Quentin turned to Eilidh. “This missive doth contain new orders: I hath been recalled to active duty and I hath sworn a sacred oath to obey. Miss Eilidh Hagram, it hath been an honour to serve thee and perform my small role. Now, I am afraid I must needs leavest thee and returneth unto my own division. Chaos creatures art proving an obstacle to our Avidon problem and I am needed to lead my units unto the battle to reinforce our numbers. I therefore ask that I mayest be honourably dismissed from thy service.”

  “Of course, Sir Quentin,” Eilidh replied. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re fighting the wrong war, but that’s not my decision to make. I've got no right to hold you here. You’re here by choice and your choices now take you elsewhere. That's as it should be. Your help has been invaluable and I'm grateful. Go. Do what you've got to do.”

  She shook his hand, grateful that his grip was gentle, and then Sir Quentin Marr marched from the room, pausing only once, to offer a Knight's salute to Lady Hannah Collins, who returned it sharply. No words passed between them. None were needed. They both knew the truth– for them, this was the end of the alliance. As soon as this war was over, the Knights of Paladinia and the Dark Knights of Zhentilon would be enemies once more, and one day the two former comrades might well be required to face each other in battle. Hannah did not relish the prospect, but she accepted the burden on her gold armour plated shoulders.

  When the door was firmly shut, Eilidh allowed the dust to settle for a moment before she called the meeting to order.

  “OK,” she said, “I realise you're all dying to tell your stories, and believe me I want to hear them, but to save time, please give the locations of the Life Eddies to Rochelle first.”

  “Yes, that would be best,” the gnome agreed. “I've got a lot of complex calculations to work through, so the sooner I start the sooner I finish.”

  Granite went first, representing his group, while Hannah was of course the sole remaining member of hers.

  Eilidh was intrigued by Hannah's story. “This Techmage, Michael, sounds like a very interesting man. He's been on a quest of his own, piecing things together along the way, just like us.” Calandra was positively swept away by the tale. “A rom antic quest with his beloved wife by his side, striving towards their bright goal together with the power of Love driving them onwards,” she breathed in awe.

  Eilidh risked a fleeting glance at Phaer, wishing just for a moment. Then she turned away just as quickly. That was something that happened to other people, not to her. Wishing never changed anything. “May Patrelaux bless them and shield them,” Lady Hannah prayed. Then she concluded her story. “Right before we didst leave, Sir Quentin and I didst learn that Z'rcona had been there perhaps moments before us.”

  “Z’rcona!” Toli gasped, “She was at the Temporal Trap, too!”

  “Temporal Trap?” Eilidh wondered. “Oh of course, you haven't heard our story yet, have you? Well, if Hannah's finished - oh you have? Oh good. In that case, I think it’s time we told you what happened to us, although with all the time distortion I'm not sure I fully understand it myself...maybe Granite had better explain it,” she suggested with a sheepish grin.

  Granite was actually well pleased to have the opportunity to have an academic magical discussion with Eilidh, to show her that his understanding wasn't limited to the simple mechanics of Life Flow Management.

  Toli just chimed in at the end to talk about Z'rcona's list. “S o does this mean Niltsiar now has all of the objects?” Rochelle asked, having just completed her calculations. She would check them through before making any kind of declaration, but she needed to take a breath or two first.

  “Nope!” Bunny declared, holding up a small silver hourglass. “I managed to relieve Z’rcona of this one. My fee f
or sparing her life.”

  “A most equitable bargain methinks,” Hannah approved. “Speaking of which, I do believe I owe thee a debt from thy small wager. Thou didst arrive herefirst, after all.” “No problem, Hannah,” the sorceress replied, holding up a small bag of gold. “I decided it would save time if I claimed it before you left.” She paused and reconsidered that. “Actually, I claimed it before I even made the bet...that's another thing I seem to keep getting in the wrong order. Still, it always seems to work out in the end, so what's the difference?”

  “It's the difference between giving and taking, lass,” Granite put in. “They could hardly be any more different!”

  “Indeed, what if I had returned before ye, or perhaps declined the wager in the first place?” Hannah wondered.

  Bunny shrugged. “That’s all part of the game. I bet myself that you would take the wager and I'd win. And if I lost, well, naturally I'd give it back.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Of course! In fact, you’d never know it was gone. What kind of thief do you take me for?”

  “The kind of thief who's just robbed Niltsiar of her time advantage and won us the time we need,” Rochelle called over by way of answer.

  “You've got it?” Eilidh asked, trying hard to control her racing heartbeat.