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Reality's Plaything 5: The Infinity Annihilator

Page 38

by Will Greenway


  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It could only happen to me…

  —Bannor Nalthane Starfist,

  Prince Conjugal of Malan

  The malaise and loss that had been washing over Bannor as he waited in the emptiness vanished as a single driving hope focused him. Something, someone, had said his name! The void had not changed, he had felt a sensation though, like a hot wind rushing over skin.

  “Hello!” He tried to yell, but he had no voice to yell with. “Hello!” He broadcast the way he had learned to telepath. Could he send thoughts without a tao form? He didn’t understand this state at all. How could he be and not be at the same time!?

  The voice seemed to echo all around him, making his non-body hum with the only sensation he had experienced. There was no tone, no inflection to tell whether the voice was male or female, but the expletive made it likely to be an elf. Could it be Sarai? Had he somehow reached her even out of this hopeless oblivion?

  “Sarai?” He asked tentatively.

  It felt as if a tornado whipped through him, it hurt yet at the same time it felt strangely comforting.

  It must be Sarai.

  He pushed a thought into the void. “Am I?”

  That made the torrent of sensations stop. He could almost see her elated face sobering in sudden disappointment.

 

  “Uh, I hope you aren’t, it’s lonely here… if you can call this emptiness a place even.”

  Though there was no expression to go with it, he sensed her confusion. She and the others must have been convinced he was dead. This was not surprising because he was convinced he was dead. she asked.

  “Haven’t a clue. I have no body, no sensation, no nothing… your voice just appears like words in whatever I am now. It’s—really—strange. Where are you?”

 

  Her voice stopped.

  “Near my what?”

  She paused.

  “I’m sorry. It was all I could think to do.”

  There was a long pause.

  “Sarai?” He waited. “Sarai?”

  Oh lords, had he been the one dreaming? An overwhelming sense of panic made thoughts ping through him. If he had a heart it would be racing. Had he already gone insane? Had he already lost his grip on rationality? It was so frustrating. No fists to pound, no mouth to scream… just awful nothingness. He couldn’t go on like this. He had to do something.

  Bannor’s next thought was aborted by a cool gust that seemed to blow through him.

  He couldn’t tell one voice from another, but there was only one person who had ever addressed him that way. The angry trepidation he had been feeling melted. If he was going crazy, why would he think of that sagacious warrior now? “Corim?” he asked of the emptiness.

 

  Damn it, was he going crazy or not? “Corim, is that you?”

  Bannor felt him sigh.

  “I am about to go crazy myself,” he responded. “What’s going on?”

 

  Where was he going with this? “So?”

  He paused.

  “What?! That’s crazy! I can’t be a sword—can I?”

 

  Could it be? It made a strange bizarre sense. A sword had no eyes, no organs, nothing to sense with. It was cold unfeeling metal. That last wish. He had wished his body to be the perfect conductor for the magic. At the last instant he had tried to unbind. The shaladen was as close to a perfect magic conductor as existed. Perhaps the garmtur in its bid to preserve him pushed him into the only location impervious to the Baronian magic.

  The shaladen.

  With a dawning sense, he realized it must be true. He’d been turned into a shaladen!

 

  “Uhhh, yes.”

 

  “Test away, not like I can do anything one way or another.”

 

  “What? Of course I won’t shock you.”

  He felt a pulse of heat, and an odd sense of pressure, then a feeling like he was being watched. Time passed, the sensations growing and fading.

  “Corim?”

 

  A burst of energy rushed through him. It felt like he had a body again! Looking like an image painted on glass, the infirmary shimmered into view, taking the place of the empty white void. The chamber was wrecked and the ceiling bowed upward, the stone fused and melted by what had probably been his retributive strike. A crater dominated the center of the room within which was a puddle of metallic-appearing slag. A single arm thrust up out of the mess, the hand posed as though once gripping something.

  The hilt of a sword.

  He realized the body he was feeling wasn’t his own.

  It was Corim’s.

  “That’s all that was left of me?” he grumbled. “I hope I blasted that coven good.” He wanted to shake his head, but he still didn’t have a head to shake. The body that he was aware of wasn’t his own, and he couldn’t control it. “Damn, this feels weird. I—I’m a—a—sword.”

  “So, it would appear,” Corim’s voice echoed. “And you can see?”

  “Yes, I must be seeing through your eyes,” he responded.

  “That makes sense,” Corim nodded. “I have had in my possession another intelligent weapon and it was much the same.”

  It was strange, he felt the warrior nod. Another intelligent weapon?

  “Well, we must go calm your wife-to-be. To lose you and get you back, it has been quite hard on her.”

  He felt Corim turn and his view shifted as they turned to the corridor and headed East. Octavia, Mercedes, Wysteri, and the three combat medical mecha were all in the passage treating injuries. Many were Kriar and valkyries barely holding onto life, apparently even the last push had not been enough.

  “Why is everyone in the corridor?”

  “Well,” Corim said. “How can I put this… that last hit was—messy. Bits of you got everywhere. Nobody, including the mecha, wanted to be in there and be reminded…”

  He tried to sigh and failed. “I understand. Did it work, did it save everyone?”

  “It did.”

  “Good.”

  They rounded a corner into an adjacent chamber that had obviously been set up to replace the damaged infirmary. Pallets had been set up and people were being migrated from the corridor to these new quarters. Sarai knelt in the corner huddled close to Wren, Kalindinai, and Janai. Daena stood over the three with a concerned look on her face.

  Sarai looked up as they entered. It made Bannor ache inside to see her face in so much pain. Her face glistened with newly shed tears, her cheeks red and puffy
. The glow in her violet eyes had turned almost gray.

  “Corim?” Sarai said. “Was I imagining it?”

  Bannor felt the big warrior’s body tighten up, no doubt anticipating the positive and negative reaction this latest news would create. “Arminwen, your husband-to-be is an amazing creature.” Bannor felt movement, and he saw Xersis blade held out on both of Corim’s thick palms. “He is here, in this blade.”

  Kalindinai who was cradling Sarai frowned. “Do not toy with her, Man. We have no tolerance for metaphor now.”

  “I’m not a metaphor!” Bannor yelled. “I’m trapped in this damn sword!”

  Kalindinai’s jaw dropped. The others gasped, obviously hearing his voice as well.

  “Bannor?” Sarai sniffed, rubbing at her eyes, silvery hair falling around her face.

  “Star, it’s me. I did it again. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

  She swallowed. He could see her daring to hope, but afraid—afraid it wouldn’t be true. He understood.

  “Star, take the sword—take me. You’ll know it’s me, I’m sure.”

  Sarai blinked. She started to rise but her mother held her back. Kalindinai’s normally impervious expression showed that she too had been upset enough over his death to cry. In a way, that surprised him.

  “Matradomma, it really is me.”

  The Queen let out a breath and released Sarai. Like a person afraid she might be bitten she reached out a tentative hand.

  A warm rush went through him, a cascade of sensations that he really couldn’t catalogue. His view of Sarai was replaced by the image of Corim looking down at them with a concerned expression, brow furrowed and dark eyes intent.

  He felt her pattern, and now could imagine it. He willed himself into it, pushing the way he used to urge the garmtur.

  Sarai gasped and held up a hand that now glowed with a golden light, at the same time, the threads of the universe spread through their vision. He still possessed the power of his nola, or at least could bestow that ability on her.

  Wren and Daena stiffened.

  “Sarai?” Wren murmured. “I feel…”

  “Whoa…” Daena’s voice trailed off. “It’s like you just became a savant.”

  Bannor felt her rub her eye and felt an ache in her chest. Her heart was pounding. Her hand trembled as she held up the sword. “You—you’re—you’re really alive.”

  “I guess. If you call this alive.”

  “Friend, I call it a darn sight better than dead!” Corim remarked rubbing the back of his head.

  “Why me?” he muttered.

  “My One, hush!” Sarai cried. A sob wracked through her, making their vision blurry. “I thought—I thought…” She sniffed, wiped her eyes and shook the sword. “Never mind what I thought! You rock-skulled… why do you have to be so damn brave?!!!”

  He felt the tempest of her anger and relief like storm waves lashing a beach. “Because you wouldn’t have me any other way, Star. I had to protect you and the others.”

  “Damn you,” she growled.

  “So, there’s lots of hurt people. Where’s everyone else?”

  Sarai sighed. “Koass led a counter offensive. When you aimed that last attack, it pointed the way to wherever that master coven must be. He couldn’t let that opportunity be lost.”

  “Well, at least it worked as I planned it would,” he responded. He still couldn’t sigh. It was nice to have feelings again. Even if they weren’t his own. In fact, to feel Sarai, feel the beat of her heart, the warmth of her skin, the tingle of her body as biophase surfed through muscle and flesh.

  His wife-to-be swallowed. “Bannor, it really is you?”

  “Star, can you think of anyone else who could get themselves this frelled up?”

  Wren shook her head, gold hair wreathing in her face. “He’s got a point.”

  “I can’t believe you managed to do it,” Daena breathed. “I can feel you now though—through Sarai anyway.”

  Janai rose and dusted herself off, pushing back her dark hair. “Brother-to-be, you are as Corim said, amazing. I would hug you but I would probably cut myself.”

  “Hug Sarai,” he answered. “For now, it’s the same thing.”

  The elder sister leaned into Sarai with sincere love and relief, arms pulling tight. As the second princess pulled back there were tears in her amber eyes. “I—I am truly glad—we didn’t lose you.” She wiped at her face.

  Daena came around and hugged Janai from behind.

  Kalindinai pushed to her feet and put an arm around her daughter. The pressure felt good. The relief and happiness overwhelming grief making Sarai giddy.

  “So, ummm, what now?”

  “I’m assuming we wait,” Corim said. “Gaea and all the others are off pursuing the Baronians. We stayed behind because—” He glanced around with some discomfort. “Because some of us no longer felt like fighting. Others were left to keep an eye on things. As it is, driving away the Baronians really tore us up. So, we needed to leave defenders to protect the wounded in case the enemy decide to double back.” The man paused. He glanced up to the ceiling as if he could see those absent. “Koass was extremely upset when he heard you had been killed.” He blew out his cheeks. “I have never seen him get angry. I feel sorry for any Baronian or Daergon that steps on his shadow.” He shook his head. “Loric, Euriel, Damay, they were seeing red to be sure. Gaea—she was perhaps the most frightening of the lot—she and that blue-haired demon.”

  “It’s a war,” he remarked. “Someone is going to…” He didn’t say the word because he felt Sarai’s hand tighten on Xersis’ hilt, the knuckles going white with pressure. “Why get so upset over me?”

  Kalindinai snorted. “Why? Because there isn’t a soul in the citadel that doesn’t like you.” She narrowed glowing amber eyes. “And more than a few are fond of you—in some cases inappropriately so.”

  “Ah,” He would have colored if it were possible. Instead, he just felt Sarai still boiling with unshed emotions. “Star, I’m truly sorry for putting you through that. I saw the attack and—”

  “Stop it,” Sarai growled. “I don’t want to relive that horrible moment again. You did what you always do—take responsibility and protect others. Wren is alive and so is her father. You were…” He felt her lip tremble. “So brave…” Their vision got blurry and he felt her face get hot. “Oh damn it.” She swiped at her face.

  He couldn’t hug her, but he imagined his arms wrapped around her, folding the essence of his nola around her body.

  Sarai rocked her head back. “Uhmm, I can feel you.” She held up the sword. “Strange, didn’t you have the shaladen as a pair of axes?”

  “Actually it was an armband when, uhhh, when it happened. It probably reverted to its normal shape.”

  “Do you think it would hurt you if I changed you to something else? I don’t have a sheath for you.”

  If he could have frowned, he would have. “Errr, I don’t know. I guess try it and if it hurts I’ll yell.”

  Sarai shook her head. “This is so odd.”

  He felt her press her will into him. He felt his pattern mesh with hers and felt an elating thrill as Eternity’s energies poured through him in a rush. The room flickered, turning gray, then yellow, blinking out for an instant before snapping back into view.

  “Wooo!” he let out.

  Sarai was abruptly concerned. “Are you all right?”

  He couldn’t swallow, but the reflex remained. “Uhhh, yeah. That was pretty heady.”

  “Well, you’re on my other arm now.”

  “Watch out for the elf savant with two shaladens,” Wren said.

  “Indeed,” Corim said. “A foe to be reckoned with.”

  “So, not that being a shaladen isn’t an interesting experience, do you think I’ll ever get back into a body again?”

  Kalindinai shook her head. “Bannor, I’ve come to accept that with you—anything is possible.”

  Return to Contents

  * * *

/>   Chapter Twenty-Five

  Bannor would change the laws of life and

  death for me. I wish he wouldn’t do it so

  damn often…

  —Sarai T’Evagduran,

  3rd Princess of Malan

  To say his latest incarnation was a new experience, redefined the limits of understatements. He, Bannor, was now a sword—specifically a shape changing shaladen. At this point, how or why it happened was irrelevant—it was true and not his imagination. The one good thing in all of the strangeness was that he could now be with Sarai and the crushing loneliness didn’t crowd in on him.

  He was still growing accustomed to his new state of being, feeling the sensations of a body not his own. Being in Corim, however briefly, was different but not strange. Sarai, being female, an elf, a Shael Dal, and pregnant… that was a lot of newness to acclimate to.

  The most fascinating thing about this new state was his unborn daughter Vhina. He felt her growing, sensed her becoming ever more alive and aware. Though his only real vision was through Sarai’s eyes, he’d discovered he could look inward, into the energy and threads of the marvelous body that he now shared with his wife-to-be. When he promised to be with her, it never occurred to him that they would be quite this close.

  “Bannor,” Sarai murmured, voice sounding sleepy. “What are you doing? It feels weird.”

  He tried to shrug but, of course, couldn’t. “Just watching Vhina. She’s already beautiful like her mother.”

  He felt her smile. At the same time he couldn’t help but catch the barest shiver of unease. What if we get stuck like this? “You must be doing something else. It’s prickly.” Sarai opened her eyes. They were in the room next to the temporary infirmary. They had made space in a little-used storage room. Old beds, discarded linens, worn carpets and tapestries had been shifted against one wall to make space. The mecha engineers had set up a few pallets so they could relax a little.

  “If I’m doing something,” he answered. “It’s not intentional. I don’t get tired or sleepy and it’s boring just sitting in the dark doing nothing. I didn’t think you wanted me peeking at your dreams.”

  “No,” she confirmed. “You can see our baby?”

 

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