Aarlen looked over. “Eclipse, Dulcere, Marna, Ivral and Dame Techstar—quite a cabal. They have reason to be concerned.”
Bannor frowned, feeling his chest tighten as he stared in that direction. Quasar was still there, she hadn’t moved. He could feel her emotions. He wondered if Eclipse could. This seemed as good a time as any to mention her presence. “You forget Quasar, she’s here too.”
The name made Desiray and Dorian twitch and look around.
“You can see her?” Desiray asked, eyes wide.
“I can now,” he answered. “I have her pattern, so I know when she’s around.”
“Damn, I better find Cassin and Annawen,” Dorian said.
“At ease,” Aarlen said holding up a hand. Her two huge daughters were already moving into the crowd. With their huge height, they easily moved through the group.
“They can’t handle Quasar,” Dorian growled.
“Neither can you,” Aarlen told her.
“I don’t believe Quasar is here to cause trouble,” Bannor said. “I think she’s here to see—” A movement on his right made him stop. The bright auburn hair and her height made the person’s identity clear.
“Bannor,” Daena said, she stopped and put a hand on his shoulder her glowing green eyes looking into his. “I think Quasar is here. I’m sensing her somehow.”
Bannor put his hand on Daena’s. “She is. Up there on that ledge.” He pointed.
Daena’s head pivoted and her eyes narrowed. “You’re right, I see her. Wow. I couldn’t do that before.”
“I bet you find a lot of things after whatever Kell did,” he said. “Daena, Wren was just introducing us to Lady Damay. Damay Alostar, this is Arminwen Janai’s Ward Prodigal Daena Sheento.”
Gown riffling, Daena curtsied to Damay. “An honor.” She raised her head. She glanced at Wren, then back to Damay. She grinned. “The biggest of my big sisters—in a manner of speaking.”
Damay clicked her tongue and smiled. “Prodigal is an apt term for you. You are the blessing that Gaea feared would never be again.”
Daena drew a breath. She glanced again to where Quasar still perched in the windowsill. “I don’t feel blessed. Being a savant wasn’t much fun to begin with.”
“Is your life with Janai so bad then?” Sarai asked with a raised eyebrow.
The auburn-haired girl let out a breath and rolled her eyes. “Okay, so recently it hasn’t been so bad. It’s only been a half season and I’m getting brow beaten by Eternals, assassins are impersonating me, and Kell does whatever he did.” She made a dismissing gesture. “Whatever. What are we going to do about Goldie up there?”
“I say we do nothing,” Bannor said. “I don’t see any hostile intent. She’s here because Eclipse is here.”
“Eclipse?” Daena said. “The Kriar guarding miss snooty Silissian?”
Desiray and Dorian both let out laughs.
White-haired Desiray pressed a hand to her breast. “Now,” she pointed a finger at Daena and laughed again. “I refuse to let you call my—daughter-in-law—snooty. It might be accurate, but it would—” She wiped an eye. “It would hurt my son’s feelings.”
It was good to know the Felspars at least had a sense of humor.
Daena shook her head. “I’ll consider myself chastened, Milady.”
“It is the perfect word for her though,” Dorian said with a grin. “I must tell Cassandra that one. Pompous little nit…” She caught herself. “Pardon, you didn’t hear me say that.”
“I did not,” Sarai said. “I called her worse just today.”
“Perhaps we should talk about something else,” Bannor said. “I notice this isn’t a sit down party.”
“Not this group, not on short notice,” Sarai said.
“What’s so difficult? A table, some chairs…”
“You’re joking right?”
He frowned.
Wren leaned forward. “You have blood royals, elders, great elders,” she glanced at Aarlen. “Warlords—Plutocrats—Mages—aliens. Who is senior to whom? Aarlen is boss of entire planets—just not this one. Dulcere is the daughter of the Kriar matriarch for the entire race of Kriar. Aarlen owns recognized territory in the Ring Realms and her family has thousands of titles. On the other hand, you’ve been in way-point you see what the Kriar people can do. In absolute power, the Kriar have technically greater strength but no territory—no presence in the Ring Realms. Which one of them gets the seat of honor at the King’s right?”
Bannor frowned. “Ummm.” He glanced at Aarlen. “The one I can least afford to offend I guess—” He looked up at Aarlen. “Or the most easily offended.”
Aarlen made an evil grin. “Now he gets it.”
“Hard choice, huh?” Wren said.
“It’s the headache Mother was accepting when Cassandra requested an invitation to the wedding,” Sarai said. “Many of the Felspars have honors and titles. Some of them exceptionally thorny. Lady Illkaren-Felspar is a Countess of Corwin in her own right, she is life-bound to the High Justicar Baron Bertram Tarrantil of Coormeer, and married to Supreme Arcanist Loric Felspar who is also great elder and a warlord. What title do you use? You can’t just arbitrarily use the highest, and certainly not the lowest. I spent summers learning etiquette—I couldn’t tell you. Someone has to figure it out though…”
Dorian leaned forward. “She loves it too. It’s her way of creating chaos without lifting a finger or saying a word.”
“I’ve gotten a castellan or two in hot water,” Desiray said with a wink. “Nobody wants to offend either of my husbands…” She shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you my title either.”
Bannor found the two Felspar women fascinating and exotic—totally jaded yet somehow grounded as well. Lady Illkaren had a mean streak that she obviously kept in check. Her affection for Wren seemed quite genuine and strong. Dorian was more of an enigma—difficult to read—a person extremely well versed in wearing masks.
“I would say ‘what’s in a name?’, but I know better,” he said. “I—” He stopped. He felt an icy chill run down his back. Threads, many of them, were suddenly where they shouldn’t be, and getting closer. His heart jumped to a gallop. Here? Now? It made no sense! There was an army in this room, what did they think…??? The realization hit him like a punch in the stomach. “Aarlen!” He yelled. At the same time he yelled a thought to all his savant brothers and sisters.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Four
Clash
« ^ »
The middle of battle isn’t the best way to meet your newest ally, but it is a fine way to take the measure of their courage and the depth of their heart.
—Loric Felspar Vilesilencer,
Krillar High Master
Bannor whipped around, blood pounding in his temples. Baronians—in this place? His whole body went cold.
“Enemy Baronians,” he yelled. “On the roof, heading in. Twenty or thirty.”
“I don’t sense anything,” Daena said. “What—?”
He grabbed her shoulder and pushed his nola into her. “Yes, you do.”
The young woman’s body stiffened and her glowing green eyes widened. “Oh—my—lords.” She raised her arms.
In any of the other parties Bannor had been in recently, such a declaration would have been the worst possible thing to do, sending mewing nobles scrambling in a mad panic. Instead, steel rang and bodies glowed as silk and satin attired party guests transformed into armed combatants.
“I sense nothing,” Aarlen growled, a sword now glowing in her fist.
Tal appeared in the group next to Bannor. “Show me where the freaks are!”
Daena grabbed the burly warrior’s shoulder and pointed.
g wave of awareness.
“Shreddds,” Desiray murmured.
“Here we go again,” Wren breathed with a shake of her head.
“Bannor—” Sarai started to speak and gasped. A big hand had appeared on her shoulder. “Sorry, Arminwen, time to leave.” The voice was Senalloy’s rumbling tenor. The big woman was already dressed in the black the special forces uniform.
“Let go!” A female voice growled. Bannor realized that the huge female held a kicking and struggling Ryelle under her arm. Janai stood close to the Baronian with a hand on her belt.
Sarai looked up at Senalloy. “I won’t leave Bannor.”
“You’re pregnant, no argument. Take my belt or I carry you.”
He kissed her. “Do it.”
Sarai scowled. She took hold of Senalloy’s belt. Almost before the action was done, the four of them vanished.
“I’m glad Jan is out of the way too,” Daena said glowing eyes narrowing. “They’re already locking things down, Sen got them out just in time.”
“How is it, whenever we meet, you seem to be in the middle of a fight?” Damay said to Wren.
“Pure bad luck,” she answered with a shrug.
“Young man,” Damay said. “Let us work together.” She bowed to Daena. “I would be honored to work with you as well, Incarnate.”
Daena’s glowing green eyes were wide. The young woman had changed a lot from the frightened girl running from thugs on an alien world. Those eyes had learned to see a lot. Daena held out her hand to Damay.
He didn’t know this powerful savant, but there was no doubt that her mastery of her Nola was beyond anything he’d ever imagined. She would be a potent ally indeed. He too held out his hand.
Damay took both of their offered hands. “Dorian, Aarlen,” she raised her voice to be heard over the people rallying together in the stone chamber. “If you would be so kind to be our catalysts.” She turned to Wren. “Get the others.” Wren nodded, closed her eyes and Bannor felt the blonde savant’s mind reach out to their brothers and sisters scattered through the room. Damay looked up to the ceiling and her voice darkened. “I do believe it is time for a party.”
The growl in the woman’s voice made Bannor’s skin prickle.
“A party is it?” Aarlen said. “That’s not the Damay I know. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable with Loric?”
“People change,” the elder savant said. “When Loric is at hand I will avail myself.” Even as she spoke the first of Baronians were appearing near the ceiling. To the normal eye they were completely undetectable, but to his nola they appeared as tangles of magick and life-force. He and Daena had sparked awareness through the assemblage.
Bannor didn’t know what the alien warriors expected when they attacked here, but he doubted they were prepared for the fury that met them. As each enemy hit the floor, threads of ether-lock spread out from them across the chamber like the tendrils of some energy-devouring monster, wrapping themselves around people and objects. Obviously, the Baronians felt the stealth would give them the free time to immobilize the room.
From child to elder, party-goers swarmed over the magically concealed figures. The Felspars were not a wild rabble, they struck with coordination and power; sword blows, mind thrusts, open handed attacks and spells all in close concert. Heavy bodies slammed to the floor with crashes.
Bannor heard the Baronian soldiers snarling in frustration as they were forced to change tactics to deal with a crowd that not only knew where they were, but attacked as though prepared.
He didn’t wait for the battle to swing back to the advantage of the powerful aliens. He closed his eyes and reached out to both Damay and Daena, pushing his nola into them and co-joining their powers through him. As he worked he realized it was different this time—more complete, more effective—the connections stronger and more elaborate. The Kriar energy knowledge seemed to assist, allowing him to bring the two savants into almost perfect synchronous.
Both women swayed with gasps.
Daena gripped her head. “What!? Oh my—!” The glowing green in her eyes turned a brilliant white. Sparks whirled around her limbs and the stone beneath her feet shuddered. She floated up off the floor. “Wow. You—I—we can fly!”
“Child what did—?” The elder shuddered and a fiery aura flared across the surface of her skin. “Gaea’s eyes!”
Daena clenched her fists and spread her arms. A flare of light spread through her limbs and the silken party gown was replaced by the close fitting black fabric that she had been ‘born’ in when she joined with the pantheon lord Hella.
Bannor felt the atmosphere pulse around the girl as she leaned over and shot forward over the heads of the crowd toward the largest grouping of enemy warriors.
Shaking her head, Damay raised her hands and in a pulse of air and force shot out over the crowd in pursuit, streaks of sparkling gold trailing in her wake.
Aarlen gestured, the glowing Shaladen sword stretched out into the form of a massive jeweled glowing staff. A fierce grin on her face, she winked at him. “You heard her,” she said with a growl. “Time to party.” She rushed toward the mêlée.
Desiray touched Wren and Dorian on the shoulder. A glow spread from her hands in a sizzle of magic transforming their party garments into close-fitting battle harnesses. She did herself last, a blue-black hauberk appearing on her body like a coat of shimmering oil.
The air burned with magic and crashes filled the air. In instants, the royal chamber became a mass mêlée. The elven regiments were flooding into the wings. Wren’s father Vanidaar and her brother Azir had fought through the press and were now close enough to touch.
Bannor felt a rush of heat shoot through his body as Daena slammed into the knot of alien warriors. Powerful the girl was, but not experienced or battle savvy. She disabled one attacker with a single crushing blow that smashed him into a granite column with enough force make the room vibrate and cracks spread up the stone. From there she needed help, as had happened in Gladshiem with Bloodguard. The attackers were seasoned soldiers and they knew how to fight powerful opponents.
Fortunately, help was right behind her in the form of Damay who looked tiny compared to the massive Baronians. The little elder thrust herself directly into the exchange. Snatching up knives and forks from a nearby table, she hurled them with incredible accuracy into ears, throats, and eyes.
Bannor felt the energy and saw the surge of threads that indicated more Baronians were appearing.
It was time to find out if he could hold himself together.
Fire seemed to burn through him. His heart raced. Throat tight, he closed his grip and thrust the combined pattern into all his brothers and sisters.
Six savants each became themselves six savants, bodies illuminated by the power of eternity. Bannor felt the flash heat wash over him as Wren, Vanidaar, Ziedra, and Azir seemed to burst into flame with gasps. Damay and Daena on the far side of the chamber also erupted with newly focused savant energy.
Bannor heard three thuds behind him. He didn’t see the figures but he sensed and felt them. One was a pattern he recognized.
Voldrax—the Baronian commander that tried to kill them at the way-point.
“Spit!” Bannor jumped back, avoiding the bruiser’s initial grab. He was still trying to compensate for having six other savants in his head, focusing and linking their nola powers.
Damn the Garmtur, his nola could make everyone but
him into war machine.
To his surprise, it was dark-clad Desiray who jumped into the path of the Baronian.
“Des!” Wren yelled.
The massive warrior gave the white-haired woman a dismissive backhand that made a ringing crack. Had she been an ordinary female, the force would have shattered her cheek and broke her neck. Instead, the power of it rocked her back a step. The woman growled and sent a fist whistling into his chest. The punch impacted with a thud and a shock that vibrated the stone underfoot. The force lifted the twenty stone brute off the floor and send him skidding backward.
With their stealth obviously not working, the Baronians revealed themselves in a sizzle of magic, a greenish aura fading from around their bodies. Dark eyes smoldering, Voldrax rubbed his chest and clenched his fists.
Damn, he didn’t want this woman to fight for him. Wren and the other three savants were still disoriented from the joining and unable to immediately join the fray. He should have considered that before doing it so unexpectedly. His own nola awareness seemed fractured. He could see the threads, but the senses of the other savants seemed to be impairing his ability to focus. Bannor struggled to take hold of Voldrax even as the giant warrior and his two guards stormed forward.
Desiray stood her ground as the monstrous Baronian raised a fist as if he would drive her into the ground like a nail.
As the brute’s hand flashed down, there was a flare of light between the white-haired woman and Voldrax. The huge warrior’s fist slammed to a stop well above Desiray’s head. A burly older man with braided gray hair had appeared between the two of them. With an upraised left hand he had caught the attack. The newcomer’s silk party trappings were torn and ripped from battle, but it was apparent he had a lot of fight left in him. Though far smaller than Voldrax he was obviously not afraid.
“Get away from my wife,” he growled. The words, just the sound, made Bannor’s skin prickle. He thrust the Baronian back with a shove.
Voldrax’s two guards were on the man in an instant, weapons shrieking from sheaths. The smaller warrior said a word and a sword appeared in his hand in a flash of red sparks. He met their attacks with a snarl and an angry toss of his head.
Reality's Plaything 3: Eternal's Agenda Page 42
