A Crown Imperilled

by Raymond E. Feist

  Amirantha shook off his blurry vision to find Nakor holding out his hand, and saying, ‘Please don’t do that until we’ve talked.’ Unable to think of anything better to do, Amirantha reached up and let the little man help him to his feet.

  Sandreena finally stopped rolling, came to her feet in a crouch and was about to attack, but found Miranda patiently waiting at the top of the path, holding out one hand, palm outward. ‘Don’t!’ was all she said.

  Sandreena hesitated and Nakor laughed. ‘You must be Sandreena and Amirantha. I am Nakor. I died before we met.’ The absurdity of that statement made him laugh. ‘We have a lot to talk about, but let’s wait until we get back to the villa. I’m sure Pug and Magnus will want to hear this as well.’

  Arkan and Calis exchanged looks, revealing in subtle elven fashion that they found the entire exchange vaguely amusing.

  Sandreena slowly shook her head. ‘Why not?’ She trudged up the path and said, ‘We know you’re not who you seem to be. Who are you?’

  ‘Well,’ said Nakor in obvious delight. ‘I am Nakor. This is Miranda. The dark-haired fellow is Arkan, and the fair-haired one is Calis.’ He pointed to the elves. ‘They’re who they appear to be.’ He pointed to Miranda and then himself. ‘We sort of are who we seem to be, but that’s not the full story, which is better told over wine.’

  He turned and started walking down the long path to the villa below. Sandreena gave Miranda a wide berth and followed, obviously very unhappy at being made to look foolish. Amirantha fell in beside Miranda and looked at the dead woman who now reeked of demon-magic, absently tossing the orange in the air. ‘I suspect wine will help,’ the warlock said to Miranda, ‘but I’m not certain it’ll help me understand.’

  She looked at him and simply said, ‘Kalkin’, as if that explained everything.

  Amirantha said, ‘Oh,’ then a moment later said, ‘Oh! Yes, we do have much to speak of.’

  Sandreena tried hard not to turn to look at what she knew to be two demons calmly walking into the heart of the Conclave of Shadows.

  Sitting in the kitchen, Sandreena seemed unable to grasp what she had just heard. ‘So, somehow … Kalkin, Ban-ath, the god of thieves and liars … put your minds into the body of demons? In the demon realm?’

  Miranda seemed ready to throttle the holy knight, but she restrained herself. Nakor said, ‘No, those aren’t ‘our minds,’ but our memories. I do not know what happened to Nakor’s mind when he died on Omadrabar. Maybe mind and soul are the same thing? Maybe he went to Lims-Kragma’s hall and started anew on the Wheel? Maybe he didn’t. He was on the Dasati world, so maybe he’s now reborn a Dasati? I have no idea. But what I do have is all of Nakor’s memories.’ He shrugged. ‘I have the memories of Belog as well. I was Belog first. But the more I live like Nakor, the more like him I feel. Mostly I think of myself as Nakor now.’

  ‘And you?’ Sandreena asked of Miranda.

  Looking off into space, she replied, ‘The same.’ She had been crushed to discover that Pug and Magnus were somewhere on the other side of the world investigating the Pantathians, and not for the first time, but with the most vehemence, she cursed not having Miranda’s powers. In her mind she could remember how it worked. The true Miranda would have been able to sense where they were and just go there.

  Amirantha repeated an earlier observation. ‘And we so far have no idea why Ban-ath would do such a thing.’

  Nakor shrugged, his hands held out palms up in perplexity. ‘The last time was when he put the memories of Macros the Black into a dying Dasati who became important in rescuing that race from a horrible end. Maybe it’s something like that. I’m not sure Macros knew that world had been taken over by a rogue Dreadlord who subverted the entire race.’

  Sandreena said, ‘I remember hearing the details from Pug, or at least those he was willing to share.’ She glanced at Miranda who nodded. ‘What I never understood is how one Dreadlord could do that.’

  ‘We may never know,’ answered Miranda. ‘I don’t know how often you talked about that after I … well, after Miranda was killed.’ She rolled her shoulders then chuckled ruefully. ‘I can still feel that demon’s jaws tearing into my neck.’

  Sandreena stood up. ‘If you will excuse me.’ She tried to sound apologetic and failed. ‘I just need some time to think …’

  Amirantha waited for a moment, then said, ‘I’ll go speak to her.’

  He followed Sandreena out of the kitchen and down the path that led to the quest quarters. ‘Are you unwell?’

  She rolled her eyes in a way that told him she considered that as stupid a question as could be. ‘This goes against every instinct I have, Amirantha. I’m sitting at a kitchen table chatting with demons. All I want to do is break their skulls with my mace and send them back to the Fifth Hell!’

  ‘It’s an unusual situation for you, I know,’ he said. ‘My experiences are different—’

  She interrupted him. ‘Of course they’re different! You summoned them to play your confidence game on gullible villagers and nobles alike. You kept them around for pets. You had one as a lover!’

  ‘I thought we agreed never to discuss Dalthea again?’

  ‘You agreed,’ she nearly spat. Amirantha had summoned a succubus as a lover when he grew tired of watching those he cared for die, and unfortunately Sandreena and he had become intimate at a time when he was still under the impression it was a passing thing. It was only after she found him in bed with the demon and tried to murder them both that he understood she had been a great deal more serious about the affair than he. It had taken them years to get past that, and from her current attitude, it appeared she wasn’t as far past it as he had thought.

  ‘Look, can we just put that aside until we are in a place less fraught with danger? I don’t think you fully grasp the scope of this. Yes, it’s startling to see Nakor and Miranda in front of us, and her looking as we last saw her moments before she died.’ Neither had met Nakor before, but hearing his story combined with Miranda had given weight to both stories. ‘But think of this: a god has manipulated things beyond recognition, towards an end only he knows, but it must be vital, otherwise why bother?’

  ‘The Trickster?’ she asked. ‘Because he’s bored?’

  ‘Maybe, but unlikely. No, this is something critical.’ He looked out into the distance. ‘Things are moving out there,’ he said. ‘We’ve seen too many terrors and wonders in our days not to understand that this is no longer a simple matter of an errant demon blundering into our world to be banished again; these two are here for a reason and we must discover it.’ Then he added, ‘And I feel we must discover it soon.’

  ‘I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you this serious about anything.’

  Amirantha looked away into the distance. ‘There are many things I would change if I could, Sandreena. How I treated you is one. But since encountering Kaspar and having him bring Brandos and me here … my perspective on many things has changed. I’ve never spoken of this to anyway, not even Brandos, and you know he’s like a son to me.’ She nodded, saying nothing. ‘As a boy I watched my people destroyed in a mad ruler’s war against another petty tyrant. What was left of the Saltumbria was my mother, myself and two crazy brothers, both of whom seemed to spend a large part of their creative energies trying to kill me. We were spared only because we had been driven away by our people because they thought our mother was a witch and mad. Both were true, but that’s beside the point. Had we been welcomed within that community we would have perished with the rest of our tribe. Here I found something larger than myself to believe in.’ He looked at her. ‘You understand that. You would give your life for your order and your goddess.’

  She said, ‘If need be, yes, but it wouldn’t be my first choice.’

  ‘Nor mine, and I’m not even sure if it came to that I could be that self-sacrificing, but I know I never cared about doing the right thing before I came here. Oh, I think I did the right thing in caring for Brandos.’ He smiled in remembrance. �
�You should have seen him as a boy. He was tough and defiant and could fight like a cornered sewer rat, but there was something in him I liked.’

  ‘So you took him in.’ Sandreena said. ‘Is he coming back?’

  ‘He and Samantha are keeping to themselves in the tor I built outside Maharta. I think he’s worried that if I find out he’s ill I’ll worry too much.’

  ‘He’s ill?’

  ‘Just an old man’s cough, but that’s the thing, isn’t it? I raised him from a boy, and now he looks old enough to be my father.’ He held out his hands and turned them over, as if trying to see something. ‘They don’t look any different than a hundred years ago, Sandreena. I have no grey hair. No wrinkles, and until I met Pug, Marcus, and Miranda, I’d never met another human being who didn’t age. There is something here to fight for, even if I’m not quite willing to die for it.’

  She nodded, not sure where he was going.

  ‘The point,’ he said as if reading her mind, ‘is that those two came back from the dead for a reason, and it’s that reason we should be thinking about, not that they are here.’

  ‘I think I understand. It’s just … I’ve been fighting demons since I took up the shield, and to sit and chat with two of them … it takes getting use to.’

  ‘Let’s go back and see if we can begin to uncover the reason for this strange turn of events and, please, try not to kill either one before we’re done?’

  She gave him a tiny smile. ‘I’ll try. No promises, but I’ll try.’

  He chuckled.

  ‘What about those elves?’ she asked as they walked back toward the house.

  ‘What about them?’

  ‘Calis I like, but that other one, Arkan …’

  Amirantha nodded. ‘There’s something different about him, true, but I can’t put my finger on it. But then, before I came here the only elves I had met were in Novindus, and down there they are not all that different from you and me.’

  Sandreena said, ‘I’ve seen a few up here, and, well … he’s just different.’

  Amirantha remained silent and they returned to the kitchen.

  Nakor and Miranda looked as the two of them entered. Behind them, students and magicians who worked for the Conclave began preparing the evening meal.

  ‘It’s changed, the Villa,’ said Miranda.

  Amirantha nodded. ‘It was utterly destroyed when you—’

  ‘Died,’ supplied Miranda. ‘I remember. The dying I mean.’

  ‘Pug abandoned the Villa,’ said Sandreena. ‘He took your death, and Caleb’s, and Marie’s very hard.’

  Amirantha said, ‘He just … left, for a while. Travelled I guess. We few who remained lingered at the black castle. The rest scattered.’

  ‘For a while I think he feared another such attack,’ said Sandreena. ‘It was a dreary few years, but then one day, Pug seemed to have come to some sort of closure and he decided it was time to revive the Villa and bring back the students and teachers. He decided to change things as he went, making some improvements.’

  Miranda looked thoughtful. At last she said, ‘I don’t know how long we’ll be here. Perhaps it’s best we not dwell on such things as the past.’

  Sandreena looked at her quizzically.

  Miranda said, ‘We know we were … resurrected for a purpose.’

  Nakor said, ‘And it is most certainly a critical one.’

  ‘But we do not know what that purpose is.’ She opened her hands. ‘I was hoping once I reached the island, met Pug … something would be revealed, our purpose made clear.’ She was silent for a moment, then said, ‘So we wait until Pug returns. I wish I could go to him.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Amirantha, rubbing his forehead absently.

  ‘I have Miranda’s memories, but not her abilities. I have demon “tricks” as Nakor calls them.’

  ‘How did you throw that fireball in Ylith?’ he asked. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you.’

  ‘It wasn’t a fireball,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘I summoned a lesser fire demon – basically an elemental – and threw it at the Keshians. He roamed around randomly until enough of him dissipated that he couldn’t maintain cohesion and he returned to the demon realm.’

  Nakor laughed aloud. ‘That’s a wonderful trick.’

  Sandreena looked at Amirantha rubbing his forehead and said, ‘What is wrong with you?’

  Amirantha realized what he was doing and said, ‘Sorry, it’s just a little tender where he smacked me with that orange.’

  Miranda’s eyes narrowed. ‘Where did you get that orange, anyway?’

  Nakor shrugged. ‘I just reached into the bag and there it was.’

  ‘But that “there” is a minor rift into that warehouse.’

  ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘And?’

  ‘You can’t do that trick.’

  His face was alight with realization. ‘I just did it! I didn’t think about it, or try to do it, I just did it!’

  He held up his right hand, his short sleeve falling to his elbow and moved his hand. Suddenly with a snap, a card appeared in it. He was almost giddy with delight as he made cards appear and started tossing them around the kitchen. Some of the students preparing the evening meal stopped to watch.

  ‘I just did it!’ he shouted, jumping up from his chair to do a little dance in a circle. ‘I just did it!’

  Miranda smiled. She asked, ‘Once more? You just did it?’

  ‘I didn’t think. I just reached in and grabbed an orange!’ His glee was infections. Sandreena and Amirantha found themselves smiling broadly at his happiness.

  Miranda closed her eyes for a second, and then said, ‘If you can, I can!’

  Without warning she threw out her hand and a column of flames sprang from her palm. With a flick of her wrist and a back and forth motion, she made it vanish. She laughed girlishly. ‘Don’t think! Just do it!’

  She stood up and looked at Nakor with deep appreciation. ‘Thank you.’ Then, suddenly, she vanished.

  ‘What?’ asked Sandreena.

  ‘Where did she go?’ asked Amirantha.

  Nakor laughed out loud. ‘She went to find Pug,’ he said. ‘She didn’t think about it. She just did it!’ He continued his dance in a circle, and the two demon experts exchanged glances. They had never seen, nor could they imagine, a demon dancing for sheer joy.

  Pug and Magnus were sitting quietly on cushions at a low table, drinking tea. ‘One thing that constantly amazes me,’ said Magnus. ‘There’s an illusion of scale that’s fluid. At moments I feel as if I’m standing outside a massive barrier, yet at others I feel almost god-like looking down on the most delicate and finely crafted miniatures crafted by a master toymaker.’

  Pug nodded. ‘Since I returned for Kelewan and assumed the mantle of the Black Sorcerer from your grandfather, I have constantly been astonished at the resilience of the human mind. It interprets what it doesn’t understand. What we’re studying is a metaphor for some sort of complex energy …’ He shook his head. ‘This is the sort of thing that used to utterly delight Nakor.’ He smiled in remembrance. ‘I never met a man who so loved mysteries.’

  Magnus nodded. ‘Have you come to any conclusions about this matrix?’

  ‘I suspect it’s a trap of some sort.’

  ‘If so, it’s very subtle.’

  ‘Those are the most dangerous,’ said his father.

  ‘Why did it suddenly manifest here? Why now? And why not at the other Sven-ga’ri location in the Peaks of the Quor?’

  Pug chuckled. ‘Impatience?’

  ‘No, just frustration, I guess.’ Magnus fixed his father with a pale blue eye and said, ‘The hardest part here is not knowing if we’re making progress or wasting time.’

  ‘Something in there is familiar,’ said Pug. ‘Something that echoes …’ He stopped. ‘I find myself when we’re in there thinking of Tomas.’

  Magnus was silent for a moment, then said, ‘Valheru?’

  ‘Perhaps. The Sun Elves told us they wer
e placed to protect the Quor by the Dragon Lords. These Pantathians were created by a Dragon Lord, perhaps to also protect the Sven-ga’ri.’

  Pug fell silent, pressing the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked his son.

  ‘Just tired. This is exciting work, but I’m not sure how much it bears on all the other troubles we’re facing. I’m trying not to let it become a distraction from our other problems.’

  ‘You’re doing all you can. Have you identified those who betrayed us in the Conclave?’

  ‘A few of those who are primarily allied with Keshian factions in the Academy,’ said Pug. He stretched and suppressed the urge to yawn. ‘No one critical appears to have been involved in any acts of betrayal.’

  Magnus thought about this, then said, ‘Many of our sources have been cut off. Jim Dasher’s organization in the Isles is still somewhat effective, though his agents in Kesh are non-existent. Roldem’s intelligence is minimal. Kesh’s is non-existent.’

  ‘Only magic could have turned that many loyal agents disloyal.’

  ‘It had to be subtle,’ agreed Magnus. ‘And it had to be practised over a long time.’

  Pug chuckled as he stood up. ‘The only time we’ve ever faced this sort of subtle, long term planning, the Pantathians were behind it.’

  ‘The Great Uprising,’ said Magnus. ‘You’ve spoken of it many times.’

  ‘Disguising a Serpent Priest as a dark elf … that alone is a prodigious feat. Moredhel shamans are like elven spellweavers; they’re in touch with basic elements of magic and can sense disruption. Moreover, the false Murmandamus had a Pantathian Serpent Priest as a servant, which would instantly arouse suspicion, yet he not only withstood scrutiny by the clans of the north, he rallied them and led them against the Kingdom.’

  Magnus studied his father. ‘What are you thinking?’

  ‘I’m thinking that in all our dealings with the Pantathians directly, little about them is subtle.’ He held up the porcelain cup he was drinking from. ‘This is subtle, finely made by a craftsman in Kesh. Part of the trade bounty these people have with their neighbours to the north. This is unexpected. These Pantathians might not be capable of fashioning such a fine cup, but they appreciate its beauty beyond utility, because otherwise we’d be drinking out of a stone or metal cup.