“Oh, come on. I knew what I was doing,” Tseka said scornfully.
Esset frowned and look at her askance; really, he knew it was probably true. Even though she was new to using magic, the one thing she knew better than anything was fighting. Nadran warriors didn’t rank themselves, but if she wasn’t the best of them, she was close.
“Not right now,” Esset amended. Tseka’s grin widened a little and she crossed the room towards him.
“Scared you, didn’t I?” she taunted. He frowned at her and, forgetting they had an audience, stooped to sticking out his tongue at her.
“Knew it. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself,” Tseka said. She smirked.
“Redeem myself? I was going easy on you!” Esset objected. He found himself getting irrationally irritated with her, which was strange, because normally he enjoyed bantering with her.
“Pfft, and that’s my fault? More the fool you then, I say. You can’t test our limits if you never push yourself,” Tseka remarked offhandedly. Esset ground his teeth.
“What exactly are you saying?” Esset challenged her. Tseka leaned in unexpectedly and peered into his eyes.
“Wow, it really does work well, doesn’t it?” she asked. Esset was confused and irritated for a moment, and then he realized that she was looking over his shoulder at Verett.
Indeed. However, I would recommend against using it on those with whom you wish to remain friends. Verett was using his wry tone again.
“What are you two going on about?” Esset asked irritably. Tseka smirked again—normally Esset would have been amused and curious about that, but now it just made him want to growl at her.
“I’ve used all three of my abilities now,” she said primly.
“How wonderful for you,” Esset snapped. Her evasiveness irritated him, but then a hint of curiosity intruded. For a moment, the curiosity angered him further, but then it won out. “Three?” He only recalled seeing one.
“I apologize for using the last one on you,” Tseka said. Esset blinked; Tseka never apologized.
“Although I’m not really sorry,” Tseka added a second later. “I did want to try it out, after all. I had to make sure it worked.”
Esset ground his teeth again. “What. Worked.”
“Apparently making someone mad is now a magical ability of mine as well as a natural skill,” Tseka replied, looking entirely too pleased with herself.
The calmer part of Esset’s mind took that piece of information in hand and turned it over a few times. It made sense. He made a conscious effort to spread the calm to the rest of his mind, but he hated losing control, especially to anger, which, perversely, made him angry.
“Don’t ever use that on me ever again,” he said to her, perfectly serious.
“I won’t,” Tseka replied, suddenly serious as well. Esset was reminded that while Tseka constantly tested limits, she rarely actually crossed them. He believed her when she said she wouldn’t do it to him again.
“So what’s the third ability?” Esset asked, trying to distract himself; that was usually the easiest way for him to deal with anger.
“It’s like battle-sharpness. It gives me energy, makes me a little stronger and faster, and lets me ignore pain and keep going when otherwise I would collapse. At least, that’s what Orvanis said. Certainly the first two were true when I tested it,” Tseka said.
“That’s useful. So’s the shield. I’m not sure how making people mad is useful though.” Or maybe he was just still mad about it himself.
“Angry people are irrational and reckless. Angry people are also more honest. In either case, the result can be very useful. I’ve always liked making people mad to find out what they’re really made of.” Tseka’s words were certainly true—she’d certainly tried to push his and Toman’s buttons when they’d first come to Salithsa, then shown her own true colors by intercepting an assassination attempt. She was always one to play the devil’s advocate.
“Yeah, I guess,” Esset conceded, still a little irrationally irritated. At least now he knew why.
“Well, let’s go see if Toman’s done yet. Maybe get some foo—” Esset suddenly realized something. “Hang on a second, Verett, why am I not hungry?”
Verett’s crystal body didn’t seem to be able to express any emotions physically, but Esset sensed that he was both amused and pleased by the question when he spoke into Esset’s mind.
It is this place. None of the Ashiier have eaten in centuries. Generations of Farri have lived and died without eating or drinking, without needing to. Sleep, too, is unnecessary. Your body is sustained and run using energy. Usually food and drink are necessary for that. In this place, the energy and magic that is ambient here is enough, Verett explained.
“Creepy,” Tseka said.
“Cool,” Esset corrected with a grin; he wasn’t feeling so angry anymore. “And it makes sense, in a way.” Tseka rolled her eyes but tolerated having to listen to further explanation as they made their way back down the tunnel.
Yes. There is no place here to grow food; everything is covered in crystals because the magic is so thick here. We would have to use magic to create food, but why do that when the magic itself suffices?
“But why hide yourselves away here in Myzavere?” Esset asked. “With this much power, you could do so much good in the world. You already know that part of the reason Toman and I went after Moloch is because we feel we have a duty to, because we might be the only ones strong enough to stand against him.” Those words still felt bitter on his tongue, since they hadn’t been strong enough—or smart enough—to beat him.
The answer to that question is very complex, but it boils down to two reasons: to protect ourselves from the outside world, and to protect the outside world from us. Think, Esset. As you said, we are far more powerful than the vast majority of the outside world. Can you imagine the temptation? Humans are the dominant race out there, and they are very good at sabotaging themselves. Even we Ashiier would be tempted to abuse our powers, if not for our own good, then for the good of those peoples. Could you imagine the heights to which your race could rise under our direction? But at what cost would that greatness come? Would the price be freedom? Or something else? No, it is best this way, where only the worthy may find us.
“But you yourself said that not many find you anymore,” Esset said.
Hm, you are right, Verett conceded. Perhaps we need to renew the clues to our existence out there so more may find us. It does seem likely that the needs of the worthy have gone unfulfilled simply because knowledge of us has become too difficult to come by. Thank you, Esset.
“I think you need more mortals around here, if you didn’t realize that yourself,” Tseka said bluntly. Esset winced at her tactlessness, but Verett just laughed.
Yes, you’re right as well, the crystal ferret said. I’ll work on persuading the others. A few will be reluctant, but I think the rest will agree readily enough.
“I hope so,” Esset said, finally feeling like himself again.
It didn’t take long for them to make it back to their rooms. Verett parted ways with them before the last corridor, citing responsibilities, but he let them know that Toman would probably be ready to see them when they got there. Esset went up to his brother’s door, then hesitated. He glanced at Tseka, for a moment wishing he had the luxury of not being misunderstood by her like with the Ashiier.
“Hey, I’ll see how he’s doing and we can meet you in your room,” Esset suggested. Tseka studied him sideways; she was far from obtuse, but nor was she totally tactless all the time. This once, she chose to let him have his way.
“Yeah. Fine. Just abandon me. I’ll wait on your convenience,” Tseka said, flicking her tail at him and slithering to her door. Esset grinned; he knew better than to take that response seriously. Esset tapped on the door and waited. He didn’t hear anything within, but after a few moments, Toman opened the door for him.
“Hey,” Toman greeted him with a slight smile.
Esset was shocked; it was the first smile he’d seen on Toman’s face since he’d been rescued. Esset found himself grinning and surprised Toman back with a quick hug.
“Hey. Good to see you back,” Esset replied, letting him go.
“Heh, yeah. Good to be back,” Toman said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. Esset stepped inside and Toman glanced outside to see if Tseka was there; Esset thought he detected a flash of relief before he closed the door. They both liked Tseka, but, well, they wanted to discuss…brother stuff.
“What happened?” Esset asked. “Tseka and I get some magical abilities, and you…” He spread his hands at his brother; his smile contained a hint of happy disbelief.
“What the Ashiier have done for me is far more than just giving me a magical ability,” Toman finished for him.
“It’s…difficult to know where to start,” Toman continued. “But first…I’m sorry. I haven’t been your brother—I couldn’t, but still.”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Esset said, his stern words belied by a gentle tone.
“Heh, yeah,” Toman said again. He sat down in one of the chairs in the room; Esset took the one across from him.
“I guess I’ll start at the beginning,” Toman said. He took a deep breath in and then out before he spoke again. “Just after you summoned the phoenix. I can talk about it now; just please, don’t stop me, or ask any questions until I’m done.” Esset nodded. That much he could understand.
“The phoenix was too late, and the spell Moloch was already casting snapped us back to his castle. But the phoenix did manage to do a lot of damage; like I said before, Moloch can’t use any magic, even any magical items, like my gloves, without pain. The stronger the magic, the more intense the agony. But over time, he’s been recovering, or at least learning to manage the pain. Magic still hurts him, but not anything like it did.
“So for the first long while, I was stuffed in a cell and forgotten. The gloves were taken from me and I was ignored. I knew I was lucky then, but not how lucky. I learned that when Moloch was finally recovered enough to turn his attention to me. He brought a lackey with him and used the lackey to torture me. Sometimes they just used magical torture, and other times he would use physical instruments to torture me.” Toman kept his tone amazingly detached, making Esset wonder again what the Ashiier had done for him. Whatever it was, he was incredibly thankful.
“His mage underling would heal me afterwards, so I would live and wouldn’t even have any scars. I tried to stay strong, and even managed a bit. Shortly after that, some of his fellow Dark Mage Lords caught wind that he’d been weakened. They started a war; it took a little while, but Moloch crushed them, even in his weakened state. It was harder for him than anyone knew, but he won nonetheless, and it’ll be a long time before any dare try to move against him again.
“Then he started torturing me again. After that… Well, it was after that I got this.” Toman touched his fingers to the new scar at his throat. “There was no end in sight, Esset, you have to understand that. I was without hope. By chance, I got my hands on a piece of crockery brought with my meal. I smashed it and used a shard to cut my own throat.” His stoic façade faltered a little then, but he still managed to continue.
“Moloch had his mage heal me, of course, but he left the scar to remind me that there was no escape until he killed me himself. He tightened the geas after that too, so suicide wasn’t an option even if I found the means.” Toman took another deep breath, in and out, before continuing.
“He broke me. He returned my gloves to me, knowing I couldn’t use them against him. He set me to work for him. I did some awful things for him. Occasionally I resisted, but not often, and less as time went on. I spent a lot of time making stone soldiers for him. The rest of the time I just stayed in my cell. I lost my hope, but he never took my memories. I lived in my memories, of things we’d done together, good we’d done in the world. But little by little, I died. I wasn’t me anymore.
“When I saw your new summon, the spider, it never even occurred to me that it might be you. It didn’t even occur to me that there might be hope for a true escape. I thought that maybe someone else would kill me or kidnap me to use me, but anything was better than being in Moloch’s hands. Even when I woke and found what had really happened… Esset, Moloch had really and truly broken me.
“On some level, I didn’t believe I was truly free. I believed it would all end, suddenly or slowly, and the hell would begin again, made all the more painful for the false freedom. But it was even more than that; when the geas was broken, I…kinda split in half. It’s hard to describe, but Jonas tried to explain it to me. Half of me snapped back to the me from before Moloch had me. The other half was the me from while I was his prisoner. The two warred, and the latter was winning. Every waking moment had memories of that time in the forefront of my mind. I couldn’t fight it… Maybe it couldn’t be fought.
“What Jonas did was take the memories of that time and…cloud them. I can access them when I need to, but they won’t rise unbidden anymore. He says I won’t dream about them either. And that part of me…it’s been subdued. It’s still there, still a part of me, and it always will be, but not like before. It won’t win now. I am who I was, with just a few new experiences. I might even be stronger.” There was that faint smile again; Esset was gratified to see it.
“Jonas did one other thing too… Part of me suspects it was necessary to make his fix stick.” Toman pulled of his gloves and held out the hand that was flesh and blood. A small black gem was embedded into it.
“I can’t use it while I have my gloves on, since they block the use of other magics, but with it, I’ll never be so vulnerable again. When I use it, it’ll help protect me against physical and magical attacks. No one can ever torture me again. They can kill me, but not torture me.” In two seconds, Toman’s skin turned black and textured like hard-packed earth. Toman held it for a moment, then dismissed the protection and put his gloves back on. Esset understood what he meant about “making it stick”—Toman had been at the mercy of Lady Ateala as well, and Esset knew it had taken its toll, if to a lesser extent than Moloch’s torture.
“Now I can fight again. Now—” Toman’s voice cracked for the first time, but it was with relief and joy now. “Now I’m me again.”
“Bright Hyrishal, but it’s good to have you back,” Esset said, his own voice hoarse with emotion.
“It’s good to be back.”
Toman and Esset rejoined Tseka, and they all shared some of their separate experiences with the Ashiier.
“I must admit, I was tempted when Jonas offered me a place among the Ashiier,” Toman was saying.
“Me too,” Esset said, a little surprised that Toman had been tempted. The lives of the Ashiier seemed very…studious. He’d thought too studious for Toman.
“Me too,” Tseka chipped in, surprising Esset even further.
“Really?” Esset’s incredulous exclamation escaped before he could stop it.
“What? It’s not like I’m some kind of barbarian!” Tseka objected, earning a grin from both Toman and Esset.
“Maybe that’s what they meant by us being worthy,” Esset mused. “Someday, maybe I’ll come back, but for now…” They met each other’s eyes in turn. “We need to deal with Moloch first.” The others agreed with grim nods.
“Perhaps all of us will return some day,” Tseka agreed.
Beyond that, however, they avoided talk of the future for the moment. It was too uncertain, and potentially too grim. For the moment, they were celebrating having Toman back. They did speak of the past for a while, but only of the good times; Tseka shared stories of the Nadra, and Esset and Toman shared anecdotes of some of their travels and the exploits that Tseka was unfamiliar with. They lost track of time until Eskeer paid them a visit. A light tap sounded at the door, and Esset immediately jumped up to open it. They were all surprised to see the crystal stag.
Greetings, Eskeer said solemnly. It is good to
see you all in good spirit.
“Greetings, Eskeer, its good to see you too,” Esset replied automatically. He gestured for Eskeer to come in.
Thank you. Now, I know you will likely depart tomorrow— Toman, Esset, and Tseka all glanced at each other. None of them had really thought about it, but they each realized it was true; they were eager to go, thankful though they were to the Ashiier. —but we have some last gifts to bestow upon you.
One of the Farri scampered in after him, her tail arched over her head; three stones on plains strings dangled from her tail. She ran right up to the table and took the pendants from her tail, placing one in front of each of them. All three stones were identical: pale, smoky white, and oval, and no bigger than a thumbnail. Esset picked his up and studied it, even as he was thinking that the Ashiier had already been too generous.
We wish to help, Eskeer said.
“What are they?” Tseka asked.
These will allow you to escape detection. They are not like the charms you wore in your battle against Moloch; these will only protect you from someone using magical means to locate you, or anything you wear or carry with you. They will keep you from being hunted quite so fiercely, but they won’t do anything to protect you from other magic.
“Thank you,” Esset said. Tseka looked hers over briefly and then tied it to the braids bracing her torso. Toman immediately animated the string on his and got it to secure itself to a belt loop. Esset manually tied his to his belt. Meanwhile, the Farri leaned in and picked a few pieces of lint off Toman’s coat and skittered away.
And one last thing. Toman, we took the liberty of retrieving something for you, Eskeer said. Another Farri came into the room, but this time it had something far less and yet far more valuable than the ensorcelled stones they’d just been presented with: Toman’s hat.
The very first time Esset had seen him, Toman had been wearing an old, worn, oversized, floppy-brimmed hat. It had belonged to the previous Animator, who’d taken Toman in after Moloch had killed everyone Toman had ever known, leaving him orphaned and alone in the world. Later, Moloch had managed to kill the Animator too, but the Animator had managed to escape and return to where he’d left Toman; his legacy was the Animator’s gloves, and, on a far more sentimental level, his perfectly ordinary hat. Toman had kept it and worn it all these years until Moloch had taken him prisoner. He’d written it off as forever lost until the Farri had entered the room with it.
Fire Within: Book Two of Fire and Stone (Stories of Fire and Stone 2) Page 18
