Worlds Without End

by Caroline Spector

  “We’re both fine.” I purred. “Really.”

  The trolls backed away down the hall. I watched them for a moment, then gave them a slow, nasty smile and shut the door.

  * * *

  “What are we going to do about Glasgian?” Caimbeul asked me. He’d just finished off a spell to take care of the wounds he’d suffered in the struggle with Ysrthgrathe.

  Unfortunately, Glasgian was in no condition to offer an opinion about his plans. A thin dribble of saliva hung from one corner of his gaping mouth. His eyes were vacant and glassy. When I touched his cheek it was cold and clammy.

  “We’ll keep him here until after the Council meets. If necessary, we can use him as a demonstration.” I said.

  “That wouldn’t be advisable.” replied Caimbeul.

  “Aithne.” I said.

  “Yes.”

  “Help me with him.” I said, taking one of Glasgian’s arms.

  Together, we managed to drag him to my room and lay him down on the bed. I disconnected the telecom, then cast a spell to protect and hold him. Back in the living room, we righted the furniture toppled during the fight. I went to the terrace doors and shut them.

  After a couple of medicinal drinks, I felt more like myself.

  “I told you.” I said as I finally came to sit beside Caimbeul on the sofa. “I told you he was here. That he’d found a way through.” My hands shook and I took another deep drink. And wished for something else. Something more potent.

  “I believed you.” he said. “But I didn’t think the threat was all that great.”

  “Because you thought you’d already dealt with them. But they’re coming like locusts. And they won’t stop until they’ve all made it through.”

  “Things are different now.”

  “How?”

  “The weapons. The Matrix. And the magic. There is always the magic.”

  I snorted, then got up to pour myself another drink. “Have you forgotten everything?” I asked.

  “They learn. They’re patient. The first few may die, but there’s no end to them.”

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

  I turned and threw my glass at him. It disappeared a moment before it would have hit his face.

  “Aina.” he said. “I’m on your side. I just can’t stand to see you destroying yourself over this.”

  “For heaven’s sake, Caimbeul, I’ve just seen the face of my most dreaded enemy after six thousand years, and you’re carping about a couple of drinks. It would take far more than that to slow me down right now.”

  “Pax.” he said, holding up his hands. “I want no more fights tonight. One was quite enough. Let’s put up a ward, then get some sleep.”

  “So, are you sleeping on the couch or am I?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s my bedroom.” he said.

  “Very well.” I replied. “I should have known better than to expect you to be a gentleman about it.”

  “You’re a real pain, you know.”

  “Oh, I’m fatally wounded.” I said. “Do you have an extra blanket?”

  He shook his head. “Look, why don’t we just share the bed? It’s not like we haven’t before.”

  I looked away. “That was different.” I said. “It was a long time ago.”

  “I promise to restrain myself.” he said.

  “I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”

  “You’ll be whatever annoys you the most.”

  I swept by him, going toward his bedroom. “You’re right.” I said.

  * * *

  There was more than enough room in the bed for both of us. Three full-sized orks would have been comfortable in it. Despite, or maybe because of, Caimbeul’s promise, I couldn’t sleep. I’d been afraid to sleep because of the dreams. But now I suspected there would be no more dreams.

  Ysrthgrathe, my old enemy. More faithful than any lover. The weight of my past with him hung in my mind. I shut my eyes, but images kept coming to me. The trail of death and blood that followed me because of him.

  A sick feeling settled into my stomach and worked its way up my throat. I shuddered at the thought of the pain and suffering that I knew Ysrthgrathe would inflict. All in my name.

  A low moan escaped my lips.

  “Aina.” said Caimbeul.

  “Did I wake you?” I asked. “I'm sorry.”

  “No.” he said. “I can’t sleep. I’m feeling cold. Do you mind if I hold you? Strictly for warmth.”

  I slid across the vast expanse of the bed into the warmth of his arms. And still it was many hours before I slept.

  * * *

  A banging woke me the next morning.

  “Doesn’t anyone just knock in this hotel?” asked Caimbeul. We were tangled up together, just like we used to be in other, happier times. He threw off the covers and grabbed flis robe from the edge of the bed.

  I pulled the covers up over my head and tried to go back to sleep, but then I remembered where I was and what that meant. With a groan, I threw the covers off and made my way to the bathroom.

  Just as I shut the door, I heard the sound of voices, so I poked my head out.

  “What? Surprised to see me?”

  Ehran.

  I groaned. More bad luck. But wasn’t that always the case? I rummaged through Caimbeul’s suitcase and found a shirt, a pair of pants, and a belt. Not fashionable, but it would have to do.

  As I pushed open the door leading to the living room, I could see them squaring off against one another, even though they would never actually do anything here.

  “Well, well.” I said brightly, stepping into the room. “Ehran, won’t you join us for breakfast?”

  “Aina.” he said. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Isn’t it always?” I replied. “I know the two of you are just dying to go at one another, but I’m really famished. I’ll call down. What are you in the mood for?”

  “Answers.” Ehran said.

  “I don’t think that’s on the menu.”

  He jerked his thumb toward Caimbeul. “Why do you spend so much of your time with him?” I half expected Caimbeul to take the bait, but he only glared back at his old rival. Maybe he was keeping quiet because he knew how important all of this was to me.

  “Slumming.” I said. “It keeps me off the streets. Really, Ehran, who knows why certain people always seem to end up together?”

  “Then tell me why you’re both here. And why did you have a meeting with Lugh Surehand last night? Which seems to have resulted in an emergency meeting of the High Council being called.”

  “Good heavens, Ehran.” I said. “With spies that good, why do you need to come to us?”

  “When I found out you were here as well as him, I decided to come.” Ehran said.

  I opened the room service menu and glanced over the selections. “Really, Ehran, I’m touched, but we’ve never been close. And only rarely allied. Why come?”

  “Don’t try to discuss anything with him, Aina.” said Caimbeul. While Ehran and I had been talking, he’d walked to the window and pulled open the drapes. Weak sunlight filled the room. The sky was overcast and looked like it might rain.

  “Don’t listen to him, Aina.” said Ehran. “He just thinks—”

  “Would you both shut up?” I nearly shouted. “Haven’t you grown tired of all this bickering? There are more important matters at stake than your interminable feud.”

  “Well, now we’re getting down to it.” said Ehran.

  “For heaven’s sake, Aina.” said Caimbeul. “Don’t breathe a word to him. He’ll go running to everyone else quick as you please, and you'll be sunk before you’ve had a fair hearing.”

  Then they were off and running. Nothing ever got solved between the two of them—it was still that old business. I confess, my sympathies lay with Caimbeul—he was the aggrieved party, after all—but that’s another story, for another time.

  I waited until they ran out of steam, which they eventually did. They sat
at opposite ends of the room glowering at each other.

  “So.” I said. “What would you both like for breakfast?”

  * * *

  “Why won’t you tell me?” Ehran asked for perhaps the thirtieth time.

  I wiped my mouth with the napkin and dropped it onto my empty plate with the remains of the lavish breakfast we’d ordered. Caimbeul had loaded a plate with food, then disappeared into his bedroom. Pouring myself another cup of coffee—the real stuff, not that awful soykaf—I got up and went to one of the large armchairs and plopped down on it.

  “First, because you and Aithne are long-time friends. I suspect anything you hear from me goes straight back to him. Second, you’re also close to Alachia. Oh, don’t give me the surprised look. I know she’s been a member of the Council since the beginning. You were smart to try to keep that secret, though. There are still a few of us who remember the old days.

  “I would hate to think what might happen should Alachia’s influence become more ... assertive. I believe things might get very difficult indeed. Just remember, Lofwyr is keeping an eye on things.”

  Ehran didn’t say anything, but leaned back in his chair and lit a cigarette. I got up and went to open the terrace doors. Nasty habit, that. I’d taken it up briefly and put it aside as quickly. The Indians had the right idea about tobacco. It wasn’t a thing to be taken casually. They understood that. Unfortunately, the Europeans didn’t.

  “I might think that there was a threat in what you’re saying.” said Ehran.

  “No.” I said softly. “I don’t threaten. You know better than that. I’m just letting you know my position.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a bad idea to alienate me right before the meeting of the Council?” He blew little smoke rings and watched them float away from him.

  “I know you’re willing to hear the truth. And that you might be willing to overlook my unfortunate choice in companions.”

  Ehran smiled at me. “I’ve always liked you, despite your strange politics.”

  “That and Aithne.”

  “Yes.” he said. “We’ve all made enemies of one another over the years. It comes from time and contact. Such a terrible thing—to be bound together over such a span. Do you sometimes grow weary?”

  “Oh, yes.” I said. I rose from my chair and went to the terrace doors to close them. Now that Ehran had finished with his cigarette, I found the chill air more than I could bear. It seeped into my bones today. I tried to blame it on the humidity, the gray sky, the wind.

  “Sometimes.” he said softly, “I wonder if we ail don’t go a little mad from it. In our own ways, of course.”

  “How so?”

  “Harlequin’s and my ongoing quarrel. Alachia’s actions in Blood Wood. Your own rejection of your people for the Great Worms. Are not all of these insanity?”

  “It all depends on where you’re looking from.” I replied.

  He pushed himself away from the table. “I won’t say anything to anyone about your being here.” he said. “You may count on my discretion. By the way, whatever happened to young Oakforest? Glasgian, you remember? He was seen coming up here, then he never came out. Where is he?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said. “Maybe your spies got it wrong.”

  “I doubt it. They’re quite good at this sort of thing.”

  “Well, he’s not here.”

  “Then you won’t mind if I take a look—”

  “Yes, I would.” I said quickly. “You’re treading a fine line here, Ehran. Even if he were here, which he’s not, it wouldn’t be any of your business. Let’s leave it at that. Shall we?”

  He gave another faint smile. “Very well, Aina.” he said. “But this is a dangerous game you’re playing.”

  I walked to the door and opened it. “I know, but when has it ever not been?”

  * * *

  As soon as the door shut, Caimbeul opened the door to his room and peered out.

  “I thought he’d never leave.” he said.

  “I can’t believe you left me here to deal with him.” I said. “And he knows about Glasgian.”

  “Yes, I heard that.”

  “Well, we’ve got to get him out of here.” I said. “I just don’t know if he’s up to anything but the conventional means.”

  “We may have no other choice.”

  I nodded, then turned and walked over to my bedroom door and opened it. The room was still dark, the shades pulled. A wedge of light from the living room spilled across the bed, which was empty. I hit the switch on the wall, flooding the room with electric light.

  The room was empty. Glasgian Oakforest was gone.

  24

  “He’s gone.” I said.

  “What?”

  “He’s gone.”

  Caimbeul elbowed past me into the room. “Maybe the bathroom?” he asked.

  I pointed to the open bathroom door. “Unless he’s thinner than I remember. Or he’s hiding in the shower stall.”

  Caimbeul went and checked in the stall. “No, not here.”

  I sagged against the dresser facing the bed. “This is very bad.” I said. “What if he goes to Aithne? We’re lost then.”

  “I don’t think he’ll do that.” Caimbeul said. He touched the bed where Glasgian had lain. “It’s cold. He’s probably been gone for a while. I suspect he didn’t leave by the usual methods, because otherwise Ehran wouldn’t have asked about him.”

  “Maybe Ehran took him.” I said.

  Caimbeul shook his head. “Not his style. Now, I’d expect it from Alachia, except she’d be here now crowing about it. And I don’t think her network is as sophisticated as Ehran’s. What surprises me is that we haven’t heard from Aithne yet.”

  “Dumb luck.” I said. “What are we going to do?”

  “Nothing.” he replied. “For right now. Whoever has him will show their hand eventually, and if he got out of here himself, then I doubt we’ll hear anything. He’ll be too damn scared. After all, he’s had a look at what happens to people who get on the wrong side of your faithful companion.”

  “Don’t call him that.” I snapped. “I haven’t seen him in millennia. I took care of him long ago. You know that. I’m tired of paying for that mistake. It won’t just be me facing him this time. I’ll have the support of the others.”

  Caimbeul shrugged. “Perhaps.” he said. “There’s no telling what they’ll do.”

  I ran a hand across my scalp. “They’ve got to see what’s happening. After you tell them about Maui, they’ll understand. But what has me worried is how anyone got past those wards.”

  Caimbeul didn’t say anything.

  * * *

  The rest of the day dragged on interminably. After the way the morning went, I kept expecting more unwelcome visitors. But they never arrived.

  The maids came and tidied the rooms, and I wondered which one of them was Ehran’s spy. Or maybe all of them were.

  I jumped at every noise, and Caimbeul’s annoying habits became more and more glaring. Pencil-tapping. Humming. Leg-jiggling. He twitched and fidgeted and moved around like a six-year-old needing to pee.

  I wondered why I’d ever had anything to do with him.

  * * *

  The day of the Council meeting dawned clear and cold. The drizzle and gray skies that had continued for the last two days broke. It irked me that the session had been set up for late afternoon. I had to waste yet another day with the tension, boredom, and Caimbeul’s habits.

  At four we began to get ready, and by five we were in the rented limo heading for the meeting. It was already beginning to grow dark as we finally reached the estate where the meeting was to take place.

  It was located west of the city. As the car swung into the wide gates flanking the drive, I saw that there were hundreds of rose bushes lining the drive. They were denuded of foliage. Their thorny canes stark and skeletal against the fading October sky.

  Several other limos were parked in front of the large
house as we pulled up. There were also a couple of high-octane performance cars modified with body armor.

  “Looks like the joint’s jumpin’.” said Harlequin. “Nice cars. I wonder who they belong to.”

  “Jinkies, Caimbeul, maybe you and the boys can go drag racing after the sock hop.” I said.

  “You don’t have to get snippy about it.” he said.

  “You’re a gadabout.” I said. “Utterly irresponsible. Can’t you keep your mind on the matter at hand?”

  “Why should I?” he asked. “When you’re perfectly capable of doing all the worrying for both of us.”

  “Jerk.”

  “Shrew.”

  “Shmuck.”

  “Harpy.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it.

  “Well, shall we go and meet the crowd?” Caimbeul asked. “I understand they’ve finished with the pagans and are moving on to the Christians.”

  “I think they’ll find us stringy and unpalatable.”

  “One can only hope.”

  * * *

  We were met at the door by a retinue of Surehand’s Paladins. They were attired in their Crusader-ish armor and toting SMGs, pistols, and other sidearms and pieces of gear I knew nothing of. Such blind reliance on technology could get these boys in a lot of trouble, I thought.

  We were escorted into the massive foyer and down a wide hallway leading to the back of the house. More like a palace. Fifteen-foot ceilings, twelve-foot-wide hallways, heavy, cream-colored damask wallpaper, marble tile underfoot. The Paladins’ boots made loud echoes against the floor. Doorways leading off the halls showed enormous rooms decorated in luxurious fabrics, woods, and stone.

  I wondered whose property this was. It dwarfed Lugh Surehand’s place in size and richness. I couldn’t imagine Aithne here. Nor Ehran. It hardly seemed their style. Our invitation to the Council had mentioned only the time and location: six p.m. at Ozymandias. Caimbeul seemed to know where to go.

  At last we came to a set of doors at the end of the hallway. The lead Paladin opened the doors and announced us.

  “Aina Sluage and Caimbeul har lea Quinn.” he said.

  I took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Caimbeul was close behind.

  Had I been Harlequin, I would have delighted at the expressions passing over those faces, but I was too nervous. I knew they wouldn’t guess how I felt. None of them knew me well enough to see that.