Scepters

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Scepters Page 64

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.


  Alucius woke. His eyes opened, and…he could see nothing. Nothing at all. There was no amber, no red, no green, just a solid black that revealed nothing. He shuddered. Where was he? What had happened? Why couldn’t he see?

  “You’ll be all right, dearest. Just try to relax.”

  “Wendra?”

  “I’m here.” A warm hand stroked his forehead.

  “How did you…? Where are we?” The questions tumbled out of his mouth.

  “In the hidden city. Or one of them. The soarers took me…and Alendra. She’s fine. Except she was upset when you got hurt the last time.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s here. She’s finally sleeping,” Wendra’s voice was gentle.

  “I can’t see. I can’t see anything at all. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. We’re both fine. You’ll be all right before long. The soarers said that this sometimes happens when someone is…injured and travels the ley lines.”

  Alucius lay silent for a moment. He wiggled his fingers, and could feel them move against his legs. His toes worked. “Can I sit up?”

  “You could,” she replied. “You might get dizzy. You’ve had a concussion. Your head hit something, or something hit your head.”

  “Stone…or bullets. Could be both.” He took a slow breath. “I heard you had disappeared…I was looking everywhere.” Alucius paused. “We’re really in the hidden city?”

  “There are two of them. I’ve seen them both. We’re in the one where you were. I think we’re probably in the same chamber.”

  “How did you get here?” He stopped. She’d told him. He was having trouble holding on to his thoughts. “Why did the soarers bring you here?” He found himself shivering.

  “To teach me more…to get your attention.”

  “I kept trying to find you…once I heard. Korcler rode all the way from Iron Stem to tell me. I thought the ifrits had you. The ifrits…they’re traders, or traitors, or the traders are ifrits…” The words seemed to tangle themselves in his mouth, but that could have been because his teeth were chattering and he was shivering violently.

  Wendra pulled a cover of some sort up over his chest and shoulders. “You still need to rest. Alendra and I are right here. You don’t have to look for us anymore. We’re all together.”

  “…all together…” Those were the last words he heard before he slipped back into the darkness.

  138

  Tempre, Lanachrona

  As he sat in the chair across the low table from the love seat, the Lord-Protector lifted the wineglass and took a small sip. His eyes were directed at his consort, but not focused upon her, nor at the wall beyond her.

  “Talryn?”

  The Lord-Protector did not respond.

  “Talryn.” Alerya’s voice was a great deal more firm. “You have not heard a word I said. Not one.”

  “Dear…you were talking about how strong young Talus has gotten, and how he managed to turn himself over in his crib.”

  “You didn’t look like you were listening. What is it?”

  “Oh…nothing…” Talryn shrugged.

  “It’s not nothing. Not when you look through me and around me. I could be in Soupat or Southgate, and you wouldn’t notice that I wasn’t here.”

  He shook his head, finally looking at Alerya with his eyes truly focused upon her. “I’m sorry. There are so many things…”

  “I know. Yet…who else can you tell?”

  “This one is trivial. It bothers me. I cannot say why. You know the Table chamber? How I had the remnants of the Table smashed and the chamber sealed?”

  “You told me about that.” Alerya’s words were cautious.

  “The servants and the guards claim that they have heard noises there. I had the door unsealed, and there was nothing there.”

  “Mice or rats. What else could it be?”

  “I worry that it is not merely rodents or thieves, not that there is anything left inside. The overcaptain had said that the Tables were a way of transport. He said that the Tables were dangerous.”

  “He was right, I’m certain. You were right to seal the chamber. What else can you do?”

  “I don’t know.” Talryn paused. “I had the chamber resealed—even more firmly.”

  “Then, forget that one. You have too many other worries. You worry about everything.”

  “In my seat, wouldn’t you? Waleryn was plotting with Enyll, and Enyll knew how to use the Table. Waleryn vanished into Lustrea seasons ago, and I’ve heard absolutely nothing. No messages, no reports from scouts or spies. The Regent of the Matrial is massing forces against the garrisons in the south, and Alyniat is uncertain whether he can hold Fola—even without facing the spear-throwers—”

  “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I got the report this afternoon.” Talryn sighed.

  “Are you thinking about recalling the Northern Guard colonel?”

  “If I but could. Why is it that there is only one of him? And a northerner to boot. I could use a score of him. But he is but one, and I cannot recall him. That would cause yet more damage. Weslyn disbanded two companies and pocketed the payroll, and promoted a half score of incompetent captains to cover things up. Colonel Alucius and Majer Feran are trying to rebuild the Northern Guard, and if I pull him out, then I’ll have no forces in the north, and the Regent can pull all her lancers out of northern Madrien and use them against Fola and Dimor. It’s almost as if someone paid Weslyn to gut the Northern Guard.”

  “Perhaps they did,” suggested Alerya. “That would serve the Regent well.”

  “It has indeed.” Talryn took another sip from the goblet. “It has indeed. I can but hope that the colonel acts well and decisively, and that Alyniat can hold the south…”

  139

  When Alucius woke again, Wendra was by his side…and he could see—her golden eyes flecked with green, her brown hair that held a depth of gold, and her wide mouth and generous lips. He couldn’t help smiling.

  “Are you feeling better?” She slipped onto the edge of the bed, easing the carrypack with Alendra slightly to the side.

  “I don’t think I could have felt much worse.” Alucius slowly eased himself into a sitting position, swinging his feet onto the amberstone floor. The left side of his head still ached, but it was a dull pain, not the stabbing agony he recalled feeling when he had staggered into the tower room. He slipped his right arm around Wendra, holding her gently, trying to avoid disturbing the sleeping Alendra. “She’s good, isn’t she?”

  “Mostly. Except when she’s hungry.” After a moment, Wendra asked, “How does your head feel?”

  “You were the one in the darkness, guiding me, weren’t you?”

  “I tried. You were so heavy—I know it’s not weight, but that was the way it felt. It felt like I could only urge you toward the soarer portals.”

  “I could feel you. I wouldn’t have made it without you,” Alucius admitted.

  “The soarer didn’t want me to go. She said I hadn’t learned enough.”

  “What have they taught you?”

  “How to travel the ley lines…”

  “Is that what they call the misty black lines under the purple black tubes of the ifrits?”

  “Yes. I stayed away from the tubes when I went after you. The soarer said they were dangerous.”

  “I suppose they are,” mused Alucius. “I knew that, but until the last few days, I didn’t realize about the deeper ways.” He looked directly at Wendra. “Why did they bring you here?”

  “I told you when you…they said you might not remember. They brought me here to keep me away from the ifrits, to teach me more, and to get your attention.”

  “Get my attention?”

  “She said that you would not act in time against the ifrits. She’s very upset. I can feel it.” Wendra worried her lower lip. “She’s acting like there’s not much time left, almost like a crotchety aunt.”

  In the carrypack, Alendra squirm
ed, then made a little sound.

  Alucius smiled, but only for a moment. “Why are the soarers worried?”

  “The ifrits are rebuilding the Tables. The barriers the old soarers erected have failed. The ifrits are trying to invade Corus once more. Their world is dying. They’re close to having drained it of all its lifeforce, and they will come here and do the same.”

  “If they aren’t stopped,” Alucius said.

  “If we don’t stop them. The soarers no longer have the strength to hold them off.”

  Alucius wanted to ask why he and Wendra had to, but there wasn’t any point in asking the question. They were young and had lives in front of them, but they wouldn’t be happy lives, not under the ifrits—if they had lives at all. But he did wonder why it had to fall on them, and the only answer was that there wasn’t anyone else who had the ability to stop the ifrits—or that anyone else who had that ability hadn’t been discovered by the soarers—and there wasn’t even any assurance that he and Wendra could do what was necessary.

  “Is that why they closed off their portals?” he asked.

  “I think so.” Her eyebrows lifted in inquiry. “You could sense that?”

  “No, not exactly. I could sense that they weren’t there. I was trying to make my way to all the portals where the ifrits weren’t…”

  “How did you know where you were?” asked Wendra. “How could you tell which places were Tables and which weren’t?”

  “I didn’t at first,” Alucius admitted. “That was how I got into trouble the first time. This time, I recalled where I’d been, but then I found the map.” He leaned forward, avoiding his daughter, and kissed Wendra, warmly, perhaps too warmly.

  She broke off the kiss. “A map? What kind of map?”

  Alucius looked at his wife sheepishly, then slowly stood and walked to the pegs on the wall where his jacket and tunic and trousers hung. After fumbling through them, he withdrew the map. “I’ve had other things on my mind…”

  “I’ve noticed,” she said dryly.

  “So have you.”

  Wendra flushed.

  They both laughed.

  Alucius extended the map to Wendra. “The green octagons show where the ifrits had Tables in the time of the Duarchy. At least, that’s what they seem to be.”

  As she studied the map, Alucius looked at her, thankful that she was well and safe. He couldn’t help worrying about his absence from the Northern Guard, but dealing with the ifrits was of far greater concern—if he and Wendra could find a way. Or if the soarers could teach them.

  140

  Salaan, Lanachrona

  Despite the heavy, fleece-lined, black jacket he wore, Tarolt shivered as he descended from the Table. He moved quickly from the Table chamber up the steps until he stood before the stove in the conference room.

  Without speaking, the Recorder followed him, waiting. Finally, Trezun cleared his throat. “What did you find out?”

  “What we suspected. There was an accident, and the seals were broached. You will clean up the mess in Blackstear and seal the room. That should not take you long, and we might need the Table. The chamber is too cold for regular use as it is now. How they can survive in such chill…but then, they are what they are.”

  “Yes, Tarolt. What of the herder-colonel?”

  “He translated to Blackstear and then elsewhere. There were traces there, but he found another Table or portal.”

  “He must be able to use the portals, then. There is no record of his using any of the other Tables.”

  “That assumes all the Tables are functioning properly.” Tarolt’s voice was clipped, cold. “Is that in fact so?”

  “The only older Tables are the ones in Soupat and Blackstear. You have inspected the Table in Blackstear. The one here and the ones in Prosp and Norda are new.”

  “Just five Tables. We need to step up the search for the scepters.” Tarolt frowned. “We had best message Lasylt the latest about the herder-colonel. Why can they not understand that we need more support?”

  Trezun remained silent for a time, before adding, “Waleryn has been working on the locators.” He did not look directly at the fieldmaster.

  “You don’t sound like you have news I wish to hear.”

  “They are not quite what we thought.”

  “Little is,” replied Tarolt. “Do they work?”

  “They do, but not exactly as Waleryn had expected.”

  “Explain.”

  “They were designed to discover the scepters and their assemblies—together. Waleryn has not been able to refine the locations yet. It requires some triangulation. He can only pick up one signal. He thinks the other scepter may have been destroyed.”

  “They cannot be destroyed. Not here on Corus. One has been removed from its container. It could be anywhere. A map of where the old Tables were would help. We only have an incomplete list.”

  “But there is some good news,” Trezun added.

  Tarolt waited.

  “With the locators and one of the scepters, the other can be located.”

  “That is good only if we can find the one. We must hope that the herder-colonel does not discover their importance. Or the ancient ones have not told him.” Tarolt’s face turned even more severe. “I detest having to rely upon hope…or upon the weaknesses or failures of others.”

  141

  The soarer appeared but briefly to Wendra and Alucius in the next two days, saying that her energies were limited and that she would wait until Alucius was able to travel the ley lines before she imparted more instruction. Before either Wendra or Alucius could comment or protest, she was gone, leaving them limited supplies—and the run of the tower. Alucius had tried to soar, the way he had once been able to in the tower, but with the portals closed once more, the lifeforce energies were too weak. That had left them effectively confined to one level of the amber tower.

  If he had not been so worried about both the ifrits and his absence from the Northern Guard, Alucius could have enjoyed the time with Wendra and his daughter even more. As it was, he still enjoyed it, although he wished the circumstances had been different.

  “We can only take the time we have,” Wendra reminded him—more than once.

  He thought it was Novdi when the soarer abruptly appeared once more. She walked from the mirror square into the trapezoidal room where the three spent most of their time. Nor did the soarer hover, but stood on the amber floor before Alucius and Wendra. They sat on the ends of the bed, and Wendra cradled Alendra in her arms. Even though Alucius was seated, his head was almost level with that of the standing soarer. The soarer’s wings carried but the faintest hint of green and gold iridescence.

  The last skill I can provide is the one that will decide whether you can survive while you do what is necessary to stop the ifrits. The soarer paused.

  Alucius got the sense that she was panting, but he could not see that she was breathing hard.

  You must learn how to anchor yourself. You must link your lifethreads with the threads of all that is around you. The ifrits cannot do that. Watch…

  Alucius focused on the soarer, who, young-looking as she appeared, also seemed worn and tired. Still, he could sense the thin threads that extended from her lifethread and hooked to the amber of the walls, even to the silvery metal.

  As quickly as the threads had seemed to meld, they disengaged, and the soarer stood unlinked.

  You must try. When you are so linked, no force brought by an ifrit can touch you or harm you.

  Alucius stood, trying to spin off thin threads.

  No! The threads are part of you. They must stay part of you. You cast them loose, and you lose part of what you are.

  Alucius swallowed. He had sensed both the command and the true fear from the soarer, a fear so real it had frozen him for a moment. Was what they were trying that dangerous?

  It is most dangerous. You can link to power and obtain it, but that is even more dangerous. A hint of humor appeared, coloring the words that
followed. Anything that confers power bears danger. She looked at Wendra. You also must master this. Your mate cannot protect you, nor you him.

  Alucius tried once more, visualizing the finest threads of his being, almost like hair extending forth, but remaining anchored to him.

  Better, but they must be stronger, and there must be more of them.

  Alucius watched as Wendra attempted to replicate what the soarer had demonstrated.

  Hold the threads to you…

  At least a glass had passed before the soarer held up a tiny hand. Enough. If you practice well, you will be strong enough to protect yourself.

  “How will this protect us?” asked Wendra.

  When you so link to the world, you cannot be taken by the power of their Tables or their lifeforce. Isolation from the world makes one vulnerable. Linking more tightly to the world creates strength. You will need that ability to save our…your world from being drained and destroyed…

  “Will they use the Tables to drain the world and its lifeforce? Or can they tap the world directly?” asked Alucius.

  They must use the Tables to begin with. Once the master ifrits are established here, they will be able to tap the world directly—as they had begun to do before the Cataclysm. They will come as once they did, flooding through the tubes and Tables.

  “Did they just add the Tables to the web that already was?” asked Wendra.

  It was not…it is not a web…those lines are part of the lifethreads of the world itself. Were we strong enough, we could travel the threads, as once we did, as you can.

  “Without a Table or a portal?”

  Yes. The Tables are necessary for the ifrits. That is their strength and their weakness.

  Alucius didn’t see a weakness. “What weakness?”

  They must use a Table, or a location that once held a Table or is otherwise powered, as by one of the scepters. They can also transport those who cannot use the Table themselves. That is a great strength. If you will but learn, you can travel anywhere on the major lifewebs, but you cannot carry another…The other weakness is that excessive use of the Tables will drain a world far sooner…

 

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