by Greg Curtis
“We should do something!”
“Yeah.” He flicked the reins and got the horses moving again. “We should.” And though he said nothing else, the point was clear. The Mythagan were gone, away to a world they alone knew, and far beyond their reach. Sana had gone with them. There was absolutely nothing they could do.
“Dung!” Marnie swore and then settled back to stare moodily at the nearby trees. Swindled and robbed by the people she had placed her hope in!
Then again, they no longer had Sana to trouble them. And that was something Marnie could live with!
Chapter Thirty Nine
The Mythagan came to see Hendrick when he was practising his spells. That wasn't a surprise. These days he did nothing but practice and build his home. He no longer brewed his ales. He'd planned to but his plans simply hadn't worked out. He seldom slept. He couldn't as the sheer amount of magic racing through his body made it almost impossible. He had so many spells and they were still all demanding his attention. In fact they demanded so much attention that between rebuilding his home and working with the spells he had little time for anything else. He suspected that that would be the nature of his existence for a long time to come.
What did come as a surprise to him was that they came to him on the twilight world. Had they been hunting for him he wondered? Or was finding a man on another world only a simple thing for them? Whether it was or it wasn't for them, it was an annoyance for him.
“Back so soon? Couldn't you make an appointment? For – say – next year?” It was rude, but Hendrick was tired and he needed to practice. He also needed to meditate so he could finally get that ancient voice silenced. Each time he thought he had it under control, it came back. Secretly he feared that it might never leave.
“You might not be alive next year.” The man – Hendrick had been told his name was Indle – told him calmly.
“None of us may be alive next year.”
It was the unfortunate reality of their situation. He didn't know what the Great Beast would do next. But he knew it would be terrible. Thus far they'd only managed to stay ahead of it by running. But even though he didn't turn around to face Indle, he had the uncomfortable feeling that that wasn't what the Mythagan meant.
“So this is your meditation?”
Hendrick didn't have to ask to know what he meant. He was talking about the sky. A sky that was absolutely filled with rainbows of every conceivable size, shape and range of colours. He'd been practising his spell of prismatic light, shaping and reshaping the dimensional manifolds, linking them to ever more distant worlds, and resizing them as well. The result was that the twilight world was bathed in colour. Every colour. It looked quite pretty. It would have looked more so if the entire world wasn't made up of broken lava.
“One of them. Going to tell me how inadequate it all is?”
“No. The spell's cast well enough.” The man came up and then sat down beside him. “It's your method of casting that needs attention.”
Hendrick turned to him, an eyebrow raised in question. “Your pardon?”
“You can't seem to decide whether to cast as a wizard or a mage. By knowledge and brute force as exerted through that tainted piece of soul in you, or by feel and empathy.”
“I don’t think about anything when I cast,” Hendrick told him tiredly. He didn't know what the man was getting at, but it didn't matter. “I just do it. And right now I need to keep doing it.”
“To make the magic a part of you? Or to burn the taint – the echoes of the dead wizard's soul – out of you?”
“Both.” Hendrick was surprised the man knew so much, though he'd told him some of it himself. Then too, maybe the others living on their world had also spoken of it. “But for the moment, mostly the latter. Why do you ask? Are you planning on offering me some worthless rocks to help?”
Indle's answer was only to stand there looking unimpressed. Whether it was at the accusation or at having been found out, Hendrick didn't know.
“How bad is it?”
Hendrick started as another voice came from behind him – Val's. He hadn't summoned him! But when he turned around to see, his surprise only grew greater. Val was standing there in the flesh! No visage. No summoning of any sort. Just the sage himself.
“Val!”
Hendrick got to his feet hurriedly and went to greet his friend, and then before he'd even thought about it, he embraced him. It was something he'd never thought he would do. He was surprised by the feel of his leathery skin and the surprising breadth of his shoulders. The musty smell he gave off. But mostly just by the simple wonder of touching him. Of touching anyone. He didn't know how long it had been since he’d last done that. The afflicted didn't get to do that a lot.
“What are you doing here?” Finally, after what was probably too long for propriety, he let his friend go. “You're not planning on eating me are you?!”
“No!” Val managed a strange impression of a laugh. “You don't smell very fresh! I might get an upset stomach!”
“I told you that!”
“The Mythagan brought me here.”
“Even I worked that out!” Hendrick managed a smile. He didn't know how long it had been since he'd managed one of those either. “Why?”
“They're worried about you.”
“No.” Hendrick immediately rejected the idea. “They're not. I don't fully know who or what they are, but that's not who they are.”
“Is that you saying that? Or is it the tainted soul of a dead wizard?” Indle retorted.
“Me.” Hendrick turned back to the Mythagan. “You think I would let that monster tell me anything? I have some of his memories. Fragments of his dark impulses keep bubbling out. Sometimes he's in my dreams when I sleep. But he's not me, and I will always reject him.”
“So you say.”
“Yes. I do say. And my word is good.” Hendrick was annoyed by his doubt. “I'm a lot stronger than him. I will kill him completely in time.”
“Or you will become him.” Indle seemed less than sure. “If you aren't already.”
“You really don't know me at all do you? You know nothing about me. You think I'm a mist breathing weak willed fool. I'm not. I'm strong. I was raised first by a mother who was concerned only with status and power. I rejected her teachings even as a child. I do not want to be a prince twisted into her own image of what one should be. It took me years to understand that. And there were moments of weakness where the only thing I wanted was a family. But ultimately I learned that my true family were the priests and the other children at the Abbey.”
“The priests raised me, and showed me a better way. And though I did not ultimately take the vows of Tarius, I accepted their teachings. Most especially the one that our souls are shaped by the way we shape others. To give in to violence and hatred is to receive it as part of our being. I chose not to. And the memories of what that foul wizard did – the disgusting urges that ruled him – only make me more certain in my choice.”
“You think that the ancient wizard would have doubted your concern? Well, you're right. He would have. But in the end it would not have mattered. He would have only cared about the knowledge and magic you had, and set himself to stealing it. Your lives, your cares would scarcely have concerned him, and then only in as much as they let him take whatever he wanted.”
“He is a true horror and I hate having any part of him in me. But his evil is so simple and transparent that I always know what is him and what is me.”
Hendrick paused for a moment before continuing. “You on the other hand are not so clear. But only because like two styne street magicians you conceal the truth in your palms and up your sleeves.”
Hendrick recognised the Mythagan as a very secretive people. He didn't necessarily doubt that they were trying to help. But he suspected that they had another agenda. It was one thing his mother had taught him. If people kept secrets then there was sure to be a reason. Find that reason and you learned a lot about them. “So why are you here
?”
“Your friend told you. We're worried about you.”
“No. Maybe you are worried about me – I don't know. But that's not why you're here. And as the priests would say, a half truth is a whole lie.” Hendrick was certain of that. “But let's try an easier question. Why did you take Sana?”
“She needed help.” The Mythagan stared straight at him, a defiant look in his eyes. But the angular planes of his face were too sharp suggesting he was trying to hide something.
“Again, not the whole reason. She needed help but that's not why you kidnapped her. So why did you take Sana?” Hendrick pressed him, sensing uncertainty.
“Indle hesitated before answering him, obviously thinking about what he should say. But eventually he found some words. “No one has ever survived what she has.”
“You mean no one has ever been through what she's been through and lived. She has knowledge of the beast. And maybe the very magic that freed her might help you.”
“Is that so wrong? That we would want to know what she knows?”
“No. It's the deception I don't like. It makes me question everything else. And now you've made Marnie and Tyrollan doubt you too. People who have nothing to hide, hide nothing. They certainly don't try and deceive others. If you'd wanted Sana, they would have been happy to give her to you – without the deception.”
Suddenly he had his mother's voice in his head, lecturing him as she had done when he was a child. And reminding him of one other thing, people were always true to themselves. If they wanted one thing, they always wanted it.
“So Sana has some knowledge that you want. And since you're here bothering me, I also must have some information you want.” It was the obvious explanation. “And since you brought my friend here to persuade me to your cause, you must want it very badly.”
He could use that he knew. But he was different from his mother in that respect. She would have said that if the man wanted information from him, that was something he should use to his advantage. He had no intention of doing that.
“I can't imagine what you think I might know save that it must be something the ancient wizard knew, but ask your questions. I will answer as best I can.”
“You –?” Indle looked surprised. As if he wouldn't have expected Hendrick to tell him anything without a fight.
“I'm not some long dead wizard. I've no desire to become a god. And I don't consider you a rival or an enemy. So why would I want to hide things from you? Ask your questions, though I can't promise to know the answers. I only have fragments of the dead wizard’s memories, and most of them are pieced together as if by drunkards and dotards. Vitanna's mist clouds everything.”
And that was the problem. What was there was fragmentary. It was a random collection of memories and understandings, desires and fears that together didn't make anything close to a whole. And then there was the fact that he didn't want to know any more about the ancient wizard. He wanted to evict him from his brain and forget he had ever existed.
“What happened to Erohilm?”
“Erohilm?” Hendrick was confused. But he also knew the name. Or at least the ancient wizard had. Suddenly he had an image in his mind of a woman. She did not look precisely like the Mythagan, but she was similar. An ancestor perhaps. She had been softer in her features, and darker in her skin. Thinking about her he could feel a connection, presumably something that he had receive as a result of absorbing a part of the ancient wizard’s soul.
Indle clearly saw that in his face. “You have feelings about her?”
“No but I can feel that the ancient wizard had many feelings about her. Strong, confused feelings. Love and hate. Jealousy, anger, fear, but also warmth. He wanted to kill her. But he would also have slaughtered anyone who dared lay a finger on her. He wanted both to be with her and to cast her away. She betrayed him in some way, but he hated himself for betraying her. Or failing her maybe. It's not completely clear. He blamed her for his failings. But he also blamed himself, and in particular for driving her away. He couldn't understand why she had betrayed him. And that drove him wild. He had to know.”
It was hard to describe what he felt – in part because the wizard hadn't known either. And there weren't a lot of memories associated with the emotions. All he could sense were cries in the darkness of his brain. It was almost like listening to the cries of a frightened and confused child. It wasn't quite love as he understood it. It was more like obsession.
“He killed her?”
“No.” Hendrick had to think about that for a while as he tried to trawl through the confused morass of memory fragments and feelings that the name brought up. “I don't think so. He wanted to. But he also couldn't. He would have laid down his life to save her. She was the only person he would ever have done that for.”
The knowledge surprised Hendrick. The ancient wizard had been a single-minded creature who devoted his every waking thought to power. And yet just the name of this woman revealed something completely different. That he had also once been a man and still had some good in him, however little. Hendrick wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was easier to despise and hate a monster than a man, however flawed.
“But he did lose her. She went away. I don't know where or when. And the pain of her going ate at him. I don't think he ever found her again.”
“Then where is she?”
“I don't know. He didn't know. When she left him he panicked. Dark and terrible pain ruled him. He used every resource at his command to get her back. He wanted to convince her to stay. But I have no memory of his finding her. And I think I would have if he had found her. It would have been a triumph greater than anything else he had ever known. It would have been the only thing in his heart. But I don't have any memory of that.”
“In any case it's over a thousand or fifteen hundred years ago. She must be long dead. And yet you act as if this woman had only just gone missing. Why do you so need to know?”
“I can't tell you that. But I can offer you help. We can treat your condition.”
“I can deal with my own problems, thank you. And I have no wish to visit your realm.” Because he knew that he would be required to go there for the treatment. And that once there he doubted that they would want him to return.
“He means that Hendrick.” Val added his voice to Indle's. “Their people have some excellent physicians of the mind.”
“I'm sure they do. But I don't know what their intentions are. I don't like secrets. And I am alright as I am. I will get through this. Besides, I'm needed here. Someone has to deal with whatever the beast throws at us next.”
“You can't fight a behemoth, no matter how powerful you become. No one can. How many times do I have to keep telling you that?” Val snorted softly at him, his version of a sigh.
“I know. Even the ancient wizards knew that. But they can be managed.” Even as the words flowed out of his mouth he was struck by how they echoed what the Mythagan had said. And how they seemed to come from the ancient wizard. It was like having a whole crowd in his head saying exactly the same thing.
“But a question for a question.” He turned back to the Mythagan. “Do you know what world this behemoth came from? Or why it came here?”
“No. But Sana might.”
And that was no doubt one of the things they wanted to ask her, Hendrick realised. “If and when she tells you anything, I'd like to be told too.”
“I will speak to the Senate about it.”
And that was about as much cooperation as he was going to get, Hendrick realised. Not that he really could have expected any more. Indle he suspected, hadn't come here purely of his own volition. He had been sent. And he had to answer to those who had sent him.
“At least you're finally being honest.” He dismissed the Mythagan with that and let his thoughts return to his friend.
“Val, I'd offer you some tea and something to eat, but I don't know if it would be safe for you to eat. And my home's – well you know the story. Everyone kee
ps destroying it. But you're welcome to stay for a bit.”
“I'd like that.” Val managed something that might have been a smile if there hadn't been all the tusks in the way – and that huge nose. “And Indle might like something to drink as well. He has this marvellous device that can tell you what's safe and what isn't just by touching your hand with it and then the food. He might be persuaded to give you one – if you ask nicely.”
That made Hendrick laugh. “You’re the sage my friend. Just what do you think are the chances of me doing that?!”
“About the same as those of Indle learning to smile!”
Chapter Forty
Marnie hadn't realised that Burbage had a monastery as well as an abbey. It seemed like something of an extravagance. Especially when the Abbey was so large and grand. Burbage was a good-sized town. It had maybe three or four thousand souls who called it home. But the Abbey was the size of the temples you found in cities. It held close to fifty priests, cared for sixty or more waifs and orphans, ran a school for hundreds and had an infirmary as well. On top of that they had a monastery? Where did all the stynes come from to pay for it? Surely no small town like this could afford it?
