"Could you?" she asked Eilidh, but the Catalyst, way ahead of her, was already Granting Life to the figurine which changed in front of their eyes into a large, fierce hellhound. Figurines were something Earth Secret mages used when they were training to be wizards.Eilidh hadn’t realised Mystaya's magic had progressed so far.
Eilidh was hoping that the princess would leave the conjured hellhound to it and get out of harm’s way, but her hopes were futile as they could do nothing toaffect Mystaya’s actions. The princess rushed at the startled chaos creatures, hellhound at her side, drawing her sword with one hand and sending out an electrical bolt with the other.
Together, woman and beast tore into the invaders, taking care of half of them in the few heartbeats it took for help to arrive in the form of two guards and an Enforcer. The young guardsman shoved the princess to one side, just in time for one of the creatures to stab Mystaya’s left shoulder. Eilidh cried out in horror, but to her surprise, there seemed to be little harm done and the guard killed it. The princess glared at him.
The remaining creatures were despatched quickly, and once they were all felled, Eilidh Drained Life from the hellhound, returning it to its inert state.
Mystaya sheathed her sword, picked up the figurine and slammed the guardsman against the wall in rage.
“You idiot!” she yelled, her face red. “Forcing me to change direction at the last second like that! You’re lucky I didn’t run you through!”
“Your Highness, I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I was just trying to help.”
“Help is welcome, but I had that one until you got in my way! I got this,” she indicated her slightly bloody shoulder, “thanks to your `help`!”
“Princess, I--"
“Save it,” she cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it. Dismissed!”
He glanced at his superior, who said, “Go. I’ll join you shortly.” The guardsman saluted and left.
The other guard approached the princess and saluted. “Your Highness,” she said, “do you wish me to discipline him?” “He’s lucky I’m not having him put on report!” Mystaya told her. Then she softened. “No, Sergeant,” she said, shaking her head as she calmed down. “I take that back. I don’t want to punish him. He was just trying to protect his Lavender Rose and forgetting that I’m probably a better swordfighter than he is.”
“No question, Your Highness,” the guard agreed, clearly nervous at getting such close personal attention from the royal Princess of Shakaran.
“What’s your name?” Mystaya asked.
“Sergeant McCallister, Your Highness.”
Mystaya smiled. “Your first name.”
“Oh, Caroline, Your Highness.”
“Well, Caroline, I understand the strain you’re all under and I appreciate all you’re doing to keep the city safe.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. That means a lot.”
“Good. Anyway, I won’t keep you from your duties. You’re dismissed.” "Oh, of course. Yes, Your Highness," Caroline replied. She saluted and began to walk away, much relieved, but Mystaya called out to her, “Oh, and Sergeant Caroline…?” She said, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips.
“Yes, Your Highness?” Caroline asked, turning around, her eyes widening.
“It isn’t strictly necessary to use my title in everysentence!”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the sergeant replied, and with that, she walked away.
Returning to Eilidh’s side, Mystaya grinned and said, “I knew she’d say that!” She laughed, but broke off as she winced at the pain in her arm.
“Excuse me, Your Highness,” the hitherto silent Enforcer put in. “Do wish me to send for a Cleric?”
“No, it’s OK, it’s nothing," Mystaya assured him. "I’ll get it seen to. The Clerics have more important things to do than to drop everything and heal me every time I get a scratch.”
“Then, by your leave…?” He left the question hanging.
“Yes, of course, I appreciate the help. You may go.”
Without another word, he bowed and walked away. Mystaya turned back to Eilidh. “I’m sorry, Eilidh.” She said. “That was unpleasant for a moment there. Are you alright? You didn’t get hurt, did you? She asked, looking the Catalyst over.
“Me? I’m fine. You’re the one who got hurt! Frankly, I’m amazed it’s not worse.”
In response, the princess tore the fabric of her already damaged dress at her wounded shoulder, revealing something metallic shining underneath. “Magically enhanced mail shirt,” she explained. “Lightweight, flexible, perfect for hiding under a dress – never leave home without it,” she quipped. “You didn’t think I was going into a fight unprotected, did you? You’re the one wandering around in just robes!”
“Chainmail lingerie,” Eilidh smiled. “I must remember that one.”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you before we were interrupted,” she said. “If I can fight for my home and still look, let’s face it, completely gorgeous, then so can you.”
“Alright, I give up,” the Catalyst surrendered. “I put myself in your hands.”
“Good. Now, do you think your friend Rochelle would mind seeing to this?” She indicated her shoulder.
“I’m sure she’d be only too pleased.”
And so, after dropping in on Rochelle for a spot of druid healing, the Catalyst had relented and placed herself under Mystaya’s gentle tutelage.
* * * * * Smiling at the memory, Eilidh was just about to extend her preparations to applying some polish to her fingernails - a tricky task that had gone horribly wrong the only previous time she had attempted it without Mystaya's guidance - when there came a sharp rap at the door.
She's early, Eilidh thought. Oh well, she can watch and have a good laugh at my clumsy efforts with my nails and then she can help me fix it.
When she opened the door, however, it wasn't Mystaya standing there, but...
“Calandra! You're -you're healed!” The Revered Daughter smiled, serenely. “Yes, I’m fine now but that story will have to wait. Br ash is bringing someone who needs to see you.” She glanced to her left, in the direction of the sound of footsteps belonging to two people who, from inside the doorway, Eilidh couldn't see. “Ah, here they are.”
“Phaer!” Eilidh cried when they came into view. Brash, in his human form, was half carrying, half dragging the half-elf whose eyes betrayed a level of pain and exhaustion that Eilidh simply couldn't comprehend anyone enduring. His skin was blistered all over but that wasn't the most shocking thing. Her Catalyst's eyes saw something even more disturbing. Something that should have been impossible.
“Bring him in, please, Brash. Quickly,” she said. Eilidh the explorer, Eilidh the puzzle-solver, Eilidh the Lady of Court - they were all gone in an instant. She was back to being Eilidh the Catalyst. “Help him to sit on the floor,” she instructed. “Let him use the foot of the bed to prop himself up.”
He did so and then asked, “Is there anything else we can do?”
OK, maybe she needed to be Eilidh the leader as well for a moment.
“Not here," she replied, "but I've got two small parties out and about. I'm sure they'd welcome me sending them a dragon each. Rochelle can give you all the details you'll find her in the study.”
“Right,” Brash agreed.
“Where is that?” Calandra asked. “I haven't been here much, remember?”
A voice volunteered from the doorway, “I believe I can help with that.” It was Princess Mystaya. “I see you have company, Eilidh.”
“Mystaya,” Eilidh greeted her. “Great timing! Phaer is hurt and needs my help. These two need to talk to Rochelle, would you mind showing them the way?”
“Of course not. What about Phaer? I can have our top cleric healers here in minutes,” she offered.
“It's not that kind of sickness. Trust me; I've got it under control.”
“Alright then,” she agreed. “Do you need anything?” “No thanks - oh, hold on, a guard on the door w
ould be an idea. I need absolute quiet. I don't care if Niltsiar herself comes here and starts tearing down the castle. It's vital that we're not disturbed for any reason!”
Mystaya nodded. “Consider it done.” With that, the princess ushered the other two out of the room and closed the door.
Chapter 15
Michael Grey gazed upon the treasure trove before him in wonder. It was greater, so much greater than he had dared to imagine. There was so much here, he scarcely knew where to begin. The magnitude of it all took his breath away. In fact, he only remembered to breathe when his beautiful wife, Suzanne, lovingly squeezed his hand.
He turned from the veritable mountain before him to gaze into her brilliant blue eyes. Such power, such strength of will, such fierce intelligence he found burning there. The only sight in the whole world that could make this glorious treasure pale in comparison. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was to have met Suzanne. She was everything to him and he loved her more than life itself. True love, he believed, was valuing another person's life even beyond his own, because her presence enhanced his life to such a degree, that life without her would be merely existing. They had been married in a tiny hamlet only a month ago, out in the Wilderness. Indeed, they had known each other for no more than a year, but he felt as if he'd known her all his life.
The final piece to the puzzle of his quest had landed in his lap on his wedding day. Some might call it a wedding gift from the gods, but Michael dismissed such superstition. This achievement was the result of his own efforts, a final causality brought about by the application of a strong will and hard work. He hadn't done it alone, of course. He had his team, and most importantly, Suzanne had been by his side every step of the way, at least for the past year. Her help had been invaluable, both in a professional way as a Catalyst and more importantly in more personal ways. This was as much her victory as it was his. She had inspired him to strive harder towards this goal. Her belief in him had never wavered, but it wasn't the blind, unthinking devotion of faith; it was her rational, reasoning mind recognising the value of his human efforts. Together they shared a belief in the nobility of the human spirit. Humans standing tall and proud in the light of their own creation. They would not be cowed by this power that threatened to ravage the world. They would not be slaves. They would stand up and fight, and this treasure was, Michael believed, their best chance of doing that.
Suzanne smiled at him and he grinned back. Sometimes his mind still couldn't quite come to terms with the knowledge that she loved him as much as he did her. He felt a bit guilty for dragging his beautiful new wife up into these cold, snowy peaks, although the reality was that she came because she chose to, because she chose him. That was what life was, after all: a constant stream of choices - choices and consequences, one flowing continuously into the next and the next, moment by moment.
Michael regretted that they still hadn't had a proper consummation of their marriage. He ached to be with her, to share his body with her, but there were other considerations right now. She understood that. In fact, it had been Suzanne who insisted on setting out on their final journey to complete their quest on their special night - their wedding night. They would have time for themselves later, if they got through this. Even finding the treasure they sought was only the beginning, but in the end it could make all the difference in the world. If the documents were accurate and the treasure was even half of what was listed, this find could change the course of the war.
Turning back to gaze upon the mountain of treasure before him - the mountain within a mountain he could see that the documents weren't merely accurate but they actually missed off much that was present. It would take time to learn to use this treasure wisely, though, and first he had to make this place secure... ...The dragon could be back at any moment and they would have to fight.
* * * * * They had taken no chances on this last leg of their journey. Refusing the direct route, they had taken the Corridor network to a series of random places first, just in case. If anyone happened to be monitoring their movements - not that there was any evidence of this - these mountains would appear to be nothing more than another random destination on their travels. Two weeks ago - well, sixteen days to be exact - they had emerged from the nearest Corridor exit and scaled the peaks of the Iciconia Range, following the trail that Michael had pieced together.
From discrete enquiries, they had learned that a dragon had made its nest here. It had not taken Michael very long to confirm that it occupied the very cave he sought. To be stopped so close to his prize was infuriating, but there was no sense in getting mad about it. Reality was reality and wishing the dragon would go away was not going to make it happen. They would have to set up camp at a safe distance and wait for an opportunity. They didn’t have to wait long.
`Fortune favours the bold` went the saying and fortune had certainly favoured them, or rather their patient strategy had paid off. For today, this very morning, the man on watch had reported something new. A party of three had just appeared, literally out of thin air, having obviously teleported there. They were led by an elf maid with long flaxen hair and sharp, angular features. She was undeniably a vision of beauty, but it was a cruel and severe kind of beauty, piercing in its intensity. She seemed somehow too perfect: sculpted, constructed. Strange words to use to describe a person, but they fitted her. As if she had been made precisely the way she was designed to be.
Michael did not know what she and her party were about, but if they could play this just right, his team might find a way to use this situation to their advantage. Suzanne was equally fascinated by this elf. As a Catalyst, she could see the flow of magic in the world and she had seen all kinds of Life magic in all kinds of people, but she had never seen anything like this. Magic did not flow smoothly around her like it should, but rather it fizzed and crackled and jumped and sparked, like some kind of wild magical beast. Almost as if she was somehow partially resistant to the touch of magic. There was powerful magic all around her, but the way it was acting, if it were an intelligent force– which was of course nonsense– one would say it didn’t want anything to do with this person but was being forced into an association against its will. The best reading Suzanne could come up with was that this individual was part magically Dead and part Life Gifted, but that was utterly impossible.
Suzanne shuddered, and not simply from the cold. Whatever this individual was, she was dangerous. The Catalyst signalled the camp to remain absolutely silent and still. There was no way to know what powers of detection the elf might have, to say nothing of the rest of her group.
Suzanne and Michael watched in awe, wonder and not a little fear as the elf maid and her party walked calmly up to the dragon's lair and waltzed inside, bold as brass. They could not see the battle that ensued within, but they could hear it and Suzanne in particular could sense the disturbance of magic. The fight was short and powerful, and it culminated in the dragon being expelled from its home at speed. Enraged, it hovered around the mountain top, growling and hissing defiance. The elf maid emerged, not a hair out of place and the dragon didn't hesitate to spit its frost breath, a vapour jet at a temperature so far below the freezing point of water that anything in its path crystallised and became brittle, easily shattered. But the elf maid was untouched and untroubled as she counter-attacked rather more effectively. The dragon yelped in pain - not a sound Michael ever expected to hear from such a large and powerful creature - and flew away in panic.
The elf's party emerged from the dragon's vacated lair and one of them handed her a single small object. Michael couldn't see what it was. Suzanne sensed that it was emitting a Techmagic Life signature, but beyond that, she was equally clueless.
Apparently satisfied, the elf maid seemed to mark something on a piece of paper and then pocketed both the paper and the object. Her party moved a short distance from the cave before teleporting away as suddenly as they had arrived.
Michael wasted no time. This was the opportunity they had been wa
iting for. He left the breaking of camp to the others - he had to get inside the lair without delay. He jumped to his feet and held out a hand for Suzanne to help her up. She loved that gesture. He had done that the very first day they met, she remembered.
* * * * * At first, he had been just another customer at the Church of Life where she worked in Keothara. His Life Gift had just flared, bringing its attendant symptoms, and he didn't have a Catalyst with him. He had paid the church fee without complaint, even gladly.
Some people resented paying a fee, believing magical services ought to be free. Many mages believed that since they had a need, Catalysts who could provide the treatment should selflessly sacrifice themselves to the cause of helping others. But Catalysts had to eat. They were people who were entitled to lives of their own, for which they needed money. Money that they earned through choosing to use their ability by offering a service, fulfilling a niche in the market. That service had value and it was only right that their customers should offer a fair exchange - value for value – in the form of gold.
The Church could not run on fresh air, good will and prayer. There were costs involved and so it was reasonable to extract this cost from those who used its resources. Of course, if a mage came to the Church who was on the verge of dying from severe raw magic exposure, the Church would not turn them away whether they could pay the fee or not, because Catalysts valued Life - both magical Life and the life of an individual. For a mage, in many ways, it was one and the same thing. This emergency service, therefore, had also to be factored into the standard fee. Michael was an individual who understood this rationale and believed completely in the principles of reason upon which it was founded.
They had talked as she worked to restore harmony to his Life Store. Michael was a Techmage - the only archmage of his warravaged craft. She’d never met a Techmage before, and she was intrigued to learn more about him. In his dark eyes, Suzanne had seen a mind that was constantly thinking, working, reasoning. He was a kindred spirit, noble and oh so alive! She soon felt as if she had known him forever. She had focussed on her job, stabilising the Life Store that protected him from the ravages of raw magic and by the time she’d finished her professional duties, it was almost the end of her shift. She opened her mouth to ask if he would like to see some of the sights of Keothara with her, but she never got the chance, as a huge explosion rocked the city like an earthquake, knocking everyone to the ground. Alarms sounded and the city guard responded, springing into action to meet the strange creatures that had begun to sweep through Keothara.
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