Find your own truth s-3

by Robert N. Charrette

  "We're not doing the ritual tonight," he said. "Drek!" Didn't he understand what he was doing by hauling her down here? She had hoped that if she humored him, he'd be satisfied and leave her alone. She had thought she could hold out for a day or two, long enough for him to see the foolishness of his plan and for her to get back to the fastness before the hunger became overpowering. "Why not?"

  "I didn't want to take the chance that something would go wrong slipping you into Council lands. The ritual would be ruined if some Council trackers stumbled into the middle of it. Besides, the moon will be full two nights from now, and the magic will be more potent if the ritual is performed then. It'll also give you some time to learn your part.''

  How many more little surprises was he going to spring? "You didn't say I had to do anything."

  "Transformation magic is more powerful if the subject is willing and involved."

  She heard herself growl and realized that no longer was her annoyance feigned. "Do I have to believe it will work?"

  "No. But it would help."

  She sat down on the loam. This wasn't working out as she had thought. But then, when had anything ever gone right? When Dan was taking care of her, was when. That had been the only time she had been really happy since before her parents had died. Everything in between had been hollow, almost as hollow as her life now.

  From the corner of her eye she could see Sam fretting, probably trying to decide how long to let her stew. After a few minutes, Hart poked him in the ribs. They exchanged a glance, and he nodded and addressed her.

  "Janice, I realize that it wasn't easy for you to come.

  The trip must have been uncomfortable, but the plane was the best we could manage. You're tired." He placed a satchel by her side. "When you're rested, take a look at the chips in the reader. They'll explain some of the fine points of the ritual. Your part is highlighted. It's not big, but it's important. I'd go over it with you now, but there are still a few more things to be taken care of in the plex. We've got to get back there."

  The plex? She never wanted to see another metro-plex. They were dirty and smelly, but most of all they were crowded with people. All those stinking, noisy people. All that meat. No, she remonstrated with herself. That's not the way to think. "You said no cities," she snapped.

  "Sorry," he said quickly. "I meant Hart and me. You'll stay here with Ghost, and he'll take you to the rendezvous point on the lower slopes of Mount Rainier. We'll meet again in two days just after sundown. Okay?"

  What choice did she have? "You didn't leave room in your plan for me to object." "I'll take that as a yes."

  Sam reached out to touch her. He was hesitant, as though undecided whether to stroke her like a furry pet, pat her like a little sister, or just lay a reassuring hand on her. In the end, he tried a little of all three. Most likely he meant to be affectionate, but he rumpled her fur the wrong way.. Worse, she felt the trembling of his hand and saw the fear in his eyes. He showed some courage, at least. His woman didn't dare come near enough to touch. X3od, who was he to call himself family, then act like all the other hateful norms?

  She didn't watch them climb into the aircraft, but then she looked up in time to see them appear in the cockpit. Sam settled into the pilot's couch. As he went through the motions the aircraft engines revved, twirling the props faster and faster until the low-slung body lifted from the field. Then the plane cleared the trees, the nacelles rotating to bring the props down for horizontal flight. The craft disappeared into the night, its sound fading as it drew further away. When had Sam learned to fly? Their departure left her alone with the razorguy Sam had called Ghost. He was staring at her while she observed him covertly. To judge from his looks and his dress, he was an Indian. It didn't surprise her that he seemed reluctant to give up his place near the trees. For generations out of mind, Indians had been telling tall tales of the wendigo. He probably believed them all.

  He'd been left to take care of her. As if she needed a norm, even an enhanced one, for a babysitter. She probably could move through the forest better than he could. She was stronger, likely faster, and had certain supernormal advantages that not even the best cyber-ware could reproduce. What good was he, except as a local guide? Most likely he was supposed to keep her from eating any people she happened upon. Did Sam really think one razorguy could stop her?

  The clearing had long since settled back into its nightly cycle of sound and activity before he moved. Leaving his spot near the tree he crossed the grass-silently, so silently that his steps did not disturb the raccoon come to investigate the satchel Sam had left. He squatted a half-dozen meters away. Did he know how well she could see him? "I'm not exactly contagious, you know." Her voice startled the raccoon, who fled. The razorguy showed no reaction save to rise and move closer. Two meters. Just beyond the distance she could reach without getting up. The razorguy had gauged her length of arm well. He remained silent.

  "Nothing to say?" Nothing was what he said. She repeated her question in Japanese and Spanish, with no better result. This new irritation was just one more added to the experience of her trip. "Can you even talk?"

  Unspeaking, he stared at her. She decided she'd seen enough of him and turned her head away. Minutes passed and the raccoon approached again, dithering over whether to approach and make another attempt to investigate the intriguing satchel. It had just made up its mind when the Indian spoke and sent it scurrying off again.

  "You are a shaman?"

  Startled herself by his sudden speech, she answered simply and honestly. "Yes."

  He was quiet for more minutes. When he spoke again, she was ready for the abruptness but not the content of his question.

  "Is it true you follow Wolf?" "Oh, you mean is Wolf my totem?" He nodded. Well, two could play at the laconic game. "Yes," she said.

  Ghost grunted and stood up. "It's a long way to Rainier. Sam said we have only the night for traveling. We should start." "What, no vehicle?" "Too conspicuous." "And that plane wasn't?"

  "A bribe to an air traffic controller makes it easy for a plane not to appear on a radar screen." "What about the noise?"

  "People hear a plane in the night, they think nothing of it. It's in the sky, far away. A car or bike is much nearer and might bring unwelcome visitors. People pay attention. Wouldn't want to drive through the forest, though, even during the day. This terrain will turn good machines into spare parts." "So we walk."

  Ghost gave her a ragged grin. "Run. If you can." She rose to her feet. She smiled back, careful not to expose her fangs. "Try and keep up. You're the one who's supposed to know where we're going."

  They set out. She started with a pace that would quickly tire a norm, but he kept up. His muscles moved in smooth, clean precision, pumping beneath his bronzed skin. The way he avoided trees and brush told her that he could see in the dark, too. After a while she slowed down. Weak from hunger, she wasn't in as good shape as she had thought. And without knowing how far they were to travel, she thought it best to conserve her strength.

  After about an hour, they flushed a deer. It was a young buck, antler buds still in velvet. He rushed from their path and Janice sprinted after him, giving it no opportunity to get far. With a howl, she pounced and I bore the buck down with her weight. She bashed one of its forelimbs with a clenched paw, and felt the bones snap under her blow. The buck sounded his pain. Gripping one of the flailing hind limbs with one hand, she held the beast down with the other. A tug and a twist and she ripped its hind leg free.

  The scent of hot blood filled her nostrils, followed by the warm, full scent of fresh meat. She sank her teeth in. The taste was weak and vaguely unpleasant, but it was food. She ripped another mouthful from the haunch.

  The deer still struggled, trying to regain its feet, making itself bleed to death faster. Didn't it know enough to accept its fate? She chewed the hot flesh, feeling the juices slide down her parched throat.

  She looked up from her meal. Ghost had caught up and was staring at her. "Don't wor
ry, man. It's just a deer." His face remained expressionless and he said nothing.

  Somehow, that made it worse. She threw down the haunch, stood, and walked away. At the base of a forest giant, she crouched again and leaned against the bole of the tree. She hugged her arms around herself. No, don'( worry, man. Leave that for me. Hunger gnawed at her, awakened by her brief, unsatisfying feast. Her stomach tightened into painful knots. All she could think about was Ghost's smooth muscles rippling as he ran. Like the deer. Too like the deer.

  "Mr. Urdli. Mr. Walter Urdli. Please meet your party at Baggage Carousel Number Three."

  Urdli looked up in annoyance at the speaker calling his name. He was barely out of the runway from the monstrous aircraft that had carried him over the Pacific, and his stomach was still queasy. He hated air travel. He visited the rest room before going to the infoboard for directions to Baggage Carousel Three. The foolish machine insisted on giving him directions to Carousel Fifteen, asserting that his luggage would be arriving there. He circumvented the paternalistic thing by calling for a general map with routes to the baggage area.

  The waiting space around Carousel Three was deserted except for two young elves, a dark-haired male and a fair-haired female. Though he had never seen either one before, they seemed to recognize him as he approached. That was not surprising. For all the elves in the crowd and all their variety of skin tone and shape, he was unique. Some had his dark skin color and some his thin build, but none had the combination or matched his height. Anyone who knew his physical description should be able to pick him out.

  He greeted them in formal Sperethiel. Their responses were adequate, but they mismanaged the proper forms of address. Seeing them insufficiently versed in the old tongue to make conversation enjoyable, he switched to English. "You are with the Council?" "My name is Estios, sir. This is O'Connor. We are aides to Professor Sean Laverty."

  While considering the implications, Urdli looked them over. O'Connor was comely enough, he supposed, though he had never really cared for the northern phenotypes. Like her companion, she wore garb whose fine material was tailored to hide her weapons from one unaccustomed to scenting the metal. Both were well groomed, and the man wore his hair cut short to reveal his ears, as some of the current crop of males seemed fearful of doing. Estios was tall for a Cau-casoid elf, with the broad shoulders his kind developed in the course of mastering physical disciplines. Of course, the two of them would have hidden talents. Urdli inclined his head to meet the male's gaze.

  "I am unaccustomed to dealing with inferiors. You will see to my luggage and take me to Laverty."

  Estios' expression remained polite, but a spark danced in his icy blue eyes. When he spoke, his voice remained calm and detached. The restraint pleased Urdli.

  "Your luggage will be taken care of, sir. This is not my job. I was asked to inform you that the professor was unavoidably detained at the Royal Hill. He asked me to serve as your guide and to take you to the mansion, where he will join you as soon as possible. He thought that the most advisable course, since your message suggested discretion."

  Urdli shrugged off his topcoat. It was warmer here than Down Under. He handed it to the female, who took it without a word of protest. "Then we shall leave this place."

  "There is a car waiting, sir."

  Urdli nodded. "We will not be driving through the city, will we? I saw it through the window of the plane. It is much given over to human architecture."

  "Portland is a compromise, sir. The city houses most of the resettled human population of the former state of Oregon. Most of the buildings continue to provide for their needs. The High Prince's Council considers this a reasonable arrangement, for the norms provide an important work force in the industries necessary to maintain the city as a contact point between Tir Tairngire and the rest of the world. However, since the recent trade agreements with the city-state of Seattle, Portland's usefulness is declining. One day, the human presence may be eliminated completely, but for now the city remains a necessary evil." "I do not like it."

  Estios smiled coldly. "I understand, sir. We can take a more roundabout route and avoid much of the urban area." "Do so."

  The trip to the mansion was quiet, almost peaceful, for Laverty's aides demonstrated minimal courtesy by offering no conversation once Urdli ignored their first few attempts. Estios was as good as his word. Urdli was not forced to see much of the ugly, squat human architecture.

  The mansion itself was in the human style; Urdli had forgotten just how unattractive it was. Its only saving graces were the superbly rendered gargoyles and the delicate tracery of protective sorceries. At least the gardens had grown into their promise. Urdli had the young elves lead him to the library, ignoring their protests that he should retire to his room and freshen up. Matters were advanced well beyond such niceties, and he intended to use his waiting time constructively. Laverty's collection of books and manuscripts was even better than he had remembered. Perhaps there was some merit to relying on the written word instead of

  organic memory. He was deep into a disk copy of Ver-mis' Liber Viridis when Laverty arrived.

  The red-headed elf advanced across the room, a smile on his broad face and his arms held wide in greeting. "It's been years, my friend. What brings you to the Tir, whispering of secrets and looking so grim?" Urdli stood, his erect stance rebuffing the familiarity of Laverty's greeting. With m slight inclination of his head, Urdli indicated Estios and O'Connor. The young elves had not left him alone since he had installed himself in the library. "These are to stay?"

  Laverty put on an affronted expression, but Urdli knew him well enough to see that it was only half-serious. "They are my best and most loyal. Should intervention be needed, they would be my agents of choice. I think it best that they hear your story for themselves."

  "Ah, they are your paladins." This time Laverty's annoyed expression was for real. "I don't require the outmoded oaths, so I don't use the word. I leave such pointless fripperies to blow-hards like Ehran."

  "Unconventional as always, Laverty." Laverty's irritation vanished when he laughed. "You should talk. Expedience rules all, does it not, Urdli? But you surely did not come to discuss my staffing arrangements. What is the problem?"

  Urdli got right to the point. "There has been a raid on Imiri ti-Versakhan. " Laverty's light tone vanished. "How bad?" "Three of the wells are empty." "Only three? It could have been worse." "Rachnei's well was one of the three. The raiders stole the guardian stone."

  "That is worse." Laverty sat and clasped his hands together, forefingers straight and pointing toward the ceiling. He lowered his head until his forehead touched the erect fingers, then tapped them against his brow in a steady rhythm. "What were the other two?"

  "Minor nuisances only," Urdli replied, returning to his chair. "They do not concern me at this time, for they will not come to power for some years. If we are diligent, we might contain them again before they cause much mischief."

  Laverty looked up. "Do you see a plan in the releases?"

  "If you fear the old foes are at work, think again. Rachnei is no more their friend than ours. The release will mean as much trouble for them as for us. Were the raid part of a plot to ensnare our assets, the thieves would have arranged a more systematic release from the wells in order to more fully occupy us." "Cultists, then?"

  Urdli shook his head dismissively. "I think not. There was no evidence of an attempt to control the release. Cultists would not be so naive. Whoever was involved has no idea what Rachnei is." "You're sure?"

  Urdli shrugged. "There is no surety, only strong probabilities. Still, there may be a way to restore the balance."

  Laverty looked doubtful. "If Rachnei has reab-sorbed the facet, I doubt the mana is high enough to sunder it again, let alone bind it back into the well. Even if it were possible, you couldn't do it alone. You'd need powerful help. Why haven't you gone to the Shidhe or made a direct plea to the Council?"

  "You know the answer to that. The Shidhe are l
ost in their dreams, and I will have no dealings with your Council as long as that dragon sits on it.''

  "I can understand your not wanting Lofwyr to know, but the others have a right, and a need, to know. The despoiling of Rachnei's well will affect us all in the long run, elf and non-elf. Containing the danger will require all available magic to succeed. A lot more power than I remember your being able to wield."

  The ease with which Laverty dismissed his power rankled, but the evaluation was correct. "I am aware of how much power is involved. You counsel expedience in place of honor."

  "I seem to recall you preferred the direct approach to the niceties of politics in your younger days."

  "As I do still. If the facet remains unabsorbed and the opportunity arises to bind it into the well again, I will not object to assembling the others to do what will be necessary. Until then, I wish a chance to redeem my honor."

  "Honor, is it?" Laverty's mouth quirked up on one side. "I hope your honor isn't going to blind you to necessity. I see no way to restore the balance at this time. With the well empty, we had best brace for the storm. Spreading the word seems the only reasonable course."

  Urdli frowned. "And you would have me shout of the failure at //ran ti-Versakhan, that all should know of that place. What of that which lies there still? Do you wish attention called to that?"

  For several moments Laverty said nothing. Then, "I see. What do you want me to do?"

  "I would rather the circle of those who know remain small as yet. I fear that you may be right, that I delude myself into believing that the balance can be restored. I had hoped that you and your library might be a resource to answer that question. You have been more in the world than I and have a better understanding of the manifestations of the mana in the Sixth World. Even if the facet may not be riven again and secreted away, I still believe that the guardian stone can be used to combat Rachnei. We must recover the stone."

  "You have access to other libraries. Why do you involve me and come to mine?" "There is an element of convenience. I have traced the remaining thieves to this continent. More precisely, I believe they lair in the metroplex to the north. As to why I have involved you, that should be obvious. You have many contacts here in the Americas, and it is a land I no longer know well. Your guidance would be invaluable. Time is fleeting. I must recover the stone before the thieves unravel the matrix of its magic."