by Lynn Hardy
I set us down in the meadow with the melted rock. The flattened bolder makes an even better platform. Hurriedly I place the emerald on its surface. I take another copy of the correspondence from my robe and set it next to the gem while there is still light in the sky.
I mutter, “Shield,” to secure the platform. Szames takes my hand once more. My palms turn numb as energy surges from our souls.
“Transdimensional,” I pronounce into the coming night.
Energy is sponged into the emerald. The crystal glows. Teal light shoots out in all directions, disappearing into the approaching dusk. Another beam forms an octagonal doorway around the parchment. The laser-light pattern within the gemstone becomes brighter and brighter until, without warning, a sapphire ray returns from out of nowhere, seeming to come from everywhere at once. Kyle’s letter disappears.
Having formed a mental link to the missive, I feel it race through time and space, streaking toward its destination. My face turns slack. My mouth falls open as the pattern inside the crystal begins to shimmer. I release Szames, cutting him from the link. I reach out a desperate hand as the emerald begins to vibrate in its stand.
Energy begins draining from me as the shield surrounding the portal spell is pummeled from an outside source. Tracing the red-tinged energy, I send part of my consciousness zipping out of the castle.
My connection to the manuscript inexplicably disappears as magical reserves wrench and twist inside me. I am jerked back into my body. A wave of dizziness causes me to sway like a tree in a tornado. Szames knocks me to the ground. He covers my smaller frame with his as a thunderous explosion leaves my ears ringing.
Rolling to his side, Szames gently helps me sit up. “Reba, are you okay? Your arm, it’s bleeding.” In a daze I watch him tear off a piece of his shredded tunic, using it as a makeshift bandage. “Are there any other injuries?”
“No… I… I am… okay.” Unable to focus on my surroundings, I look at the world around me, feeling as though I am surrounded by soupy fog.
The rock has a large crack running across it. Its pitted surface is a testimony to magic gone awry. Looking to my partner, I see other evidence of destruction.
“How about you?” A more complete sentence is beyond my fuzzy mind.
“Nothing but a few bruises, thanks to the chain mail. Do you think you can stand?”
“If you will assist me in rising.” I am weak but resolved. “With a little food, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Szames practically picks me up, setting me on my feet, all the while maintaining a hold on my arm. Struggling to lift my foot, my legs give out from under me. He scoops me into his arms before my knees hit the ground. Carrying me like a new bride over a threshold, he hustles for the castle with long, quick strides. Thick blackness of unwanted sleep steals over me as the rhythm of his steps rocks me like a hammock on a pristine beach buffeted by a gentle ocean breeze. I wake as the smell of food tantalizes my senses through the light doze.
“I need food,” I mumble.
The haze surrounding my brain clears after a few sips of mulled wine. It is immediately replaced by a skull-splitting headache. The anxious look from Szames makes me feel even worse.
“I should’ve taken greater precautions… I’m sorry…” My apology trails off as the ache in my skull multiplies with each word. I stuff my mouth with a huge bite of the bread and cheese for lack of anything better to do.
“You did warn me of the dangers. Are you sure you are okay? Perhaps you should lie down for a bit.”
“No. I’ve got too much to do.” What I wouldn’t give for some Tylenol.
Looking down, I pull back the sleeve of my robe. The shirt underneath is torn and bloody. I’ve ruined a blouse. Crystal is going to kill me!
Missing the sound of the door opening over the throbbing of my head, I jump as Merithin appears at the end of the table.
“Quite the headache?” When I nod, the sorcerer turns to the prince. “Your Highness, I will see the lady to her chambers where she may recover. I am sure you have other matters to attend to.”
Szames takes the hint, rising to leave. “Milady, will you be feeling up to dinner this evening?”
“I must eat, whether or not I can think through this headache.” I wince at the sound of my own voice.
Merithin moves to help me rise as Szames takes his leave. Shamefully, I am forced to lean on someone more than twice my age as we make our way to my rooms.
“I know you have been doing an extensive work having to do with portals. It was the second one in the same area in the last few days,” Merithin begins as we enter a deserted hallway. “What are you trying to do, create a dead zone?”
“A dead zone?” I mumble.
“Our Sixth Law of Magic: Each magical working removes a predetermined amount of corporeal energy from the environment.” Thorough as his nature dictates, Merithin enlightens me. “Apprentice spells will take half a cycle to recuperate, journeymen, a full cycle, and master spells, a full two cycles. Draining an area of all corporeal energy creates a magically dead zone which may never recover.”
“Oh, I didn’t know…” I mutter, cheeks aflame. I’ve been flinging magic about everywhere. I’d better make a log of all the spells I’ve cast and where.
The aged sorcerer grimaces. “Milady, here on this world, we must carefully preserve our magical resources. If I may inquire, what exactly were you doing?”
“I was using an emerald as a focus to hold the majority of a portal spell so I could send a message to my home world,” I murmur, trying not to antagonize the pain that is subsiding to a dull throb. Cautiously I apply a touch of healing magic.
“You were trying to get around the First Law?” Merithin’s tone is surprisingly bitter. “You have broken the Fourth Law against flying, and you may be the One Who Brings Change, but this is one law you won’t be breaking.”
“Merithin, I’ve got to find a way around it. I have a husband. We need to be together.” Pleading with the elder, I feel like a scolded child. The situation with Alex is worsening by the day; I am desperate. We finally reach my rooms, and I gesture for him to take a seat in the reception chamber. I sit down next to him, happy to be off my feet. “Surely it can be bent, if not broken?”
“Milady, you have my greatest sympathy. I understand your desire to be with the one you care for, but I’m afraid I can offer you no good news.” His voice turns softer, kinder as he explains. “With your experience on another world, it is expected that some of what is unattainable to us might be possible for you. As you well know, the usual enchantment relies solely on the spoken word and the information in the mind of the caster. Energy from the caster is combined with the environment through the force of the will of the sorcerer. The portal spell, however, uses the essence of the individual performing the enchantment. A piece of the aura, the umfang, is necessary to complete the transfer. That is the reason it can only be performed one time. The aura of a master sorcerer holds the needed essence, and once cast, the aura is depleted of the vital substance which makes the spell possible. Any attempt without the needed ingredient destroys that which is to be transported and, depending on the strength of the spell, the caster as well.”
Muted through the haze of pain, I perceive an inexplicable sadness in the graying gentleman. “I can see by your aura, you were still in contact with the process when it failed to find the portal essence. Most master-level sorcerers would be unconscious right now. Even with your abilities, I’m surprised you are coherent.”
I grimace, ducking my head. Without that youth spell, I probably wouldn’t be.
The elder pats my leg. “You may have a headache that will make you wish you were dead, but you will recover in time. It will take a day or so for your aura to sort itself out and regain its vitality. I suggest, if you have any more ideas concerning modifying a portal spell, talk it through with me first.” The grandfatherly manner with which he delivers his advice makes it impossible for me to resent him for the restriction.
; “A wise precaution.” With the pain abating, I can think straight. I blush at the folly of my actions. “But right now I need to get over to the infirmary.”
“That, milady, is out of the question. You are going nowhere but to bed. Without a nap, at the very least, you are going to find working even a minor spell incredibly difficult.”
“I don’t have time for this! Merithin, there are things I need to do. I have to enchant those sashes at the very least.” When I shake my head for emphasis, a sharp knife slices through my skull, causing me to wince.
“If you don’t rest now, give your aura time to settle, it may take you octals to recover. Do you have a spell ready for the defensive sashes?” After I give a cautious nod, he continues. “Let’s go over the enchantment and the desired attributes.”
Since the majority of the magic is a duplication spell from my silver cloak, Merithin manages to assume the responsibility with very little effort. Minutes later, after handing over the enchanted garment, I stumble into my bedroom. Not bothering to undress, I collapse into a heap on the inviting feather bed.
The sensation of tumbling in a black void engulfs my subconsciousness. Sleep overcomes me. I am unable to wake. After what seems like hours to the confusion of my muddled senses, a soothing balm penetrates my comatose state. I discern the presence of another. My eyes pop open.
“Sleeping Beauty awakes with my touch. Does this mean I’m a prince?” Recognizing Jamison’s accent, I sigh with relief.
“Who me? Sleeping Beauty? I’m more like a sleeping giant around here. But, Jamison, you are a prince among men. You took away the headache.” As Jamison examines the wound on my arm, Crystal and Phedra enter.
“Another experiment, milady?” Crystal gives the blouse a disapproving look. “You will need a new tunic.”
“Removing the shirt will make my job easier. If you don’t mind… ?” Jamison colors as he makes the request.
I unbutton the shirt and notice blood on the slacks as well. Seeing no reason for modesty—after all, the undergarments I wear are more concealing then a bikini—I take those off too.
“Crystal, I guess I’ll need a whole new outfit while we’re at it.”
I turn back toward Jamison. He lets out a whistle. “Not a beauty, my ass,” the healer puns shamelessly, staring at my butt. “That tail is a black man’s dream.”
“Jamison! What happened to a doctor’s medical detachment?” I mockingly take him to task. “I suppose I’m built decently if you like the tall, athletic type.”
“Now you must be joking. You’ve got the perfect slim figure and a great butt, if I may say so.” He trails off as he begins working on my arm.
Noticing Phedra’s gaping mouth, I explain, “Good friends come in both male and female on my world. Openness is not uncommon.”
Still bewildered at the platonic exchange, she bobs her head. “As you say, milady.”
“I hope they didn’t drag you all the way from the consortium for this little scratch.” I remark as he comes out of the trance.
“What? No… I escorted Rose back. I heard there’d been a mishap; figured I should stop by to see how you were doing.” Looking up from his work, he gives his final diagnosis, “Your arm is as good as new, but I’m afraid it was a temporary fix on the headache. When the boost I gave you wears off, use your healing ability to keep the pain to a minimum until your aura sorts itself out.”
“Thanks a million.” I turn to the blond maid hovering a few feet away. “Crystal, I’m famished. Can you send for a snack?” She whispers to Phedra, who darts off as I begin dressing.
“I don’t think I’m gonna make breakfast tomorrow, but if you have a few minutes, can I join you for your snack?” With his request, I sense something troubling him. As soon as his feet cross the threshold, he begins pacing.
“I’ve been thinking about what Jerik said this morning, about not going home. Reba, I’ve got no one back there that will miss me much. I see my parents a couple times a year. I don’t have anything close to a love interest.”
“Hold on a minute. If you’re thinking about Rose—”
The healer throws his head back defensively. “What do you mean, ‘thinking about Rose’? What if I am?”
“I’m empathetic, remember. Being between you two is like being submerged in chocolate: all warm and gooey.” The joke fails to lighten the mood.
“You mean she digs me? Really digs me?” The huge grin spreading across his face tears at my heart because I know I am going to have to break his.
“Did she happen to mention that King Arturo has arranged a marriage for her?”
“Marriage?” The strangled tone makes me wince. “That… that doesn’t matter,” he stutters. “The real reason I’m staying is healing. It’s like Jerik said: when I use my gift, I feel complete. I feel like I belong somewhere for the first time in my life. I’m not going with you. I can’t.”
“If that’s what you want. You can always change your mind. You’re gonna have another couple weeks, at least, to explore this place before we go.”
When Crystal and Phedra enter with a plate of food, I change the subject. I don’t want news of our splintering group to get out before I am ready for the questions it will arouse. Jamison, congenial as always, follows the change in topic, promising to try to make breakfast the day after tomorrow for an update.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Reba, I am delighted you have recovered enough to join me.” The honest caring the princess exudes is a soothing balm to my wounded pride. “How are you feeling?” She’s related to Alex?
“Thanks to Jamison, I feel almost back to normal.” At the mention of his name, I get a rush of intense passion laced with a warm fuzziness.
We sit down to lunch, and I broach a new topic. “Rose, it’s obvious, at least to me, how you and Jamison feel toward each other. Part of me is happy, but I’m also worried about the eventual pain any type of relationship is bound to bring.”
“He feels the same?” Her surprise isn’t as great as Jamison’s, but the overwhelming happiness it brings is a mirror image of the physician’s response. “I expected as much. I am touched by your concern; however, I hope you will not be offended when I do not heed it.”
Stunned by her frankness, it takes me a few minutes to reply. “I understand your position. We have a saying.” Raising my glass for a toast, I plagiarize shamelessly. “‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’ I wish you both the best, until duty separates you.”
After a gulp of agreement, Rose sets her glass on the table. She gives a slight nod of her head, as if acknowledging something. “I love both my brothers; however, I feel I should give you counsel in return for your thoughtfulness.”
My mind races through possible revelations. I wait for her to continue while she chews a bite of meat. “Jamison has told me about the ways of love and marriage on your world. Our ways differ greatly. It is expected that you will marry Alex. If it should come to pass, no matter what promises he gives, I do not believe Alex has the capacity for monogamy. Do not trust him with your heart, no matter what he pledges.”
“Thank you, Rose. I will keep your words firmly in mind.” I respond to her support even if the information is unneeded. “Hopefully the issue will never arise.”
The rest of our lunch passes too swiftly. When I leave for my chambers, she goes to the Healers Consortium. Being unable to cast even a minor spell leaves me with little to do but organize supplies and create the enchantments I will need. Surprisingly these activities take the rest of the evening.
“Yes, Milady Archmage Reba.” William bows as I finish listing tomorrow’s duties. Why do I still sense trepidation?
“Yes, Milady Archmage Reba.” On his second day, Keth’s mimicking William’s behavior perfectly. A quick study. I’ll have to talk to Merithin about his training. I don’t even know at what age the gift is supposed to appear.
A knock sounds on the outer door. My newest page moves to answer it
, beating William to the punch. When Szames enters, both boys bow before taking their leave.
“I wondered what was keeping Alex’s other page so busy. How are you finding his services?” Szames ushers me toward the dining room table.
“Alex’s page?” I am blindsided by the revelation.
“You mean he failed to disclose where he received his training? Who assigned him to you?” Szames’s bewildered tone changes to disgust as he enlightens me. “Like father like son, I suppose. William is Duke Rokroa’s son. The duke is a complete boor but is also one of Father’s most loyal subjects. What is said in his presence might as well be whispered in Father’s ear.”
“Szames, you have solved a riddle that has plagued me since William’s arrival. A sense of fear shadows the child. I think he’s been terrified I’ll discover he is reporting to your brother.” Chuckling at the thought of someone fearing me, Szames and I exchange knowing smiles.
We dig in to dinner, concentrating on food instead of conversation. Szames breaks the silence.
“So, Reba, what can you tell me about the world from which you come?” He lets me make the decision of what to contribute for the information exchange.
“Hmm, let’s see. Our worlds are so different. Why don’t I start with something close to home? It has been pointed out, by several people now, that my marriage differs from the ones here in one very fundamental way.” Needing to make my lack of sexual freedom clear, I begin a lecture I know I will be giving quite often.
Explaining relationships to him as I did with Crystal, minus the dramatic recreation of our lovemaking, I find his openly displayed astonishment extremely amusing. “You’re welcome to ask questions. We can discuss any topic. But I want you to know that whatever my behavior may imply on this world, my gestures are completely platonic.”
“If I understand correctly, you and your husband still find your… relationship… satisfying?” The emphasis he places on relationship leads me to ask the obvious.
“You are talking sexually?” I chuckle as Szames turns a bright red. “It’s not as earth-shattering as it once was, but it’s still extremely enjoyable. Making love has lost some of the urgency you find when a relationship is new, but we have overcome many obstacles, which has caused our love to grow. Now we share a greater intimacy in our coupling.” I finish quickly before I bore the playboy to death with monogamous details. “Both of us know that when we get old and wrinkled, there will be someone who still wants to cuddle and express the love we have nurtured throughout the years. That each wrinkle will be loved.”
