The Rod of Seven Parts

by Douglas Niles

  "It is the Battle of Pesh, the finest legacy of the wind dukes," Parnish said, his voice thick with emotion. "It was the greatest victory of the vaati, but a tragic triumph in the end. The cost decimated the warriors of Aaqa beyond recovery."

  "Pesh?" I wondered. "Never heard of it."

  "The battle was waged countless centuries ago, on a world very far from our own. Indeed, the time was in such distant past that even the greatest sages have lost track of the real date. Nevertheless, the effects of its outcome are still felt in the worlds today."

  "What do you mean?" Saysi asked as she and Badswell came to stand beside us. I heard her gasp as she, too, felt the impact of the scene. Her fingers wove into my own hand, clenching tightly as she sought courage in the face of the horror.

  "That... creature—" the wizard spoke with almost physical loathing, and without looking, I knew he meant the three-headed monster commanding the spyder-fiend army—"is Miska the Wolf-Spider, consort of the Queen of Chaos and the greatest threat to law ever to menace any world."

  "His army wins?" Badswell observed curiously.

  "They are destroying the wind dukes and their champions, the captains of law. If not for the arrival of a mighty weapon, Miska's forces would have prevailed and chaos would rule all the cosmos. Our lives, and the lives of our forefathers for countless preceding generations, would be nil, snuffed out before they had a chance to begin."

  "What mighty weapon?" I asked, scanning the ranks of the dukes. Abruptly I saw it: In the background, surprisingly small by the standards of a "mighty weapon," was a shaft of midnight black, borne by a tall, solitary wind duke.

  "The Rod of Law, as it was known," Parnish explained. "When the last of the dukes were trapped and surrounded, a great captain took the rod and pierced Miska's body with it. The power of ultimate law met absolute chaos, and the battlefield was riven by natural violence. The rod shattered into pieces, an amount equal to that most chaotic of numbers—seven. But even as the pieces of the rod disappeared, so ultimately was Miska banished to his prison. There, in the wild realms of Pandemonium, he remains to this day."

  "But why did the pieces of the rod show up now?" Saysi wondered.

  "The question should be 'why now and why here?' " admonished Parnish Fegher. "Through the centuries, they have appeared frequently among the known worlds. Always they are scattered by apparently random pattern, and always on a world where law and chaos remain in strife."

  "And the Queen of Chaos wants to gather the pieces?" I guessed.

  "Indeed, for if she can assemble the rod, she can free her consort, and Miska will once again be unleashed across the planes. Any world in his path would be riven by chaos, countless lives destroyed, histories lost, entire peoples obliterated."

  I gulped at the bleak description. Even the arrival of a few spyder-fiends had been enough to disrupt my life of relative peace and quiet. It didn't take much imagination to picture what an entire army of them could do to a place like, for example, Argenport. Or, even worse, Colbytown.

  "You talk of worlds," I said. "I've come to realize that this cosmos is a pretty big place, but how many different lands or realms can there be?"

  "No one knows," Parnish Fegher replied, "possibly because it is impossible to count that high. Suffice to say that there are countless worlds beyond our own, many of them quite similar, but others so different that to merely draw a breath there would cause instant death."

  I shuddered at the prospect, not so much of a fatal atmosphere as the very idea that there could possibly be a countless number of worlds.

  "And every one of those worlds would face danger—mortal peril, in fact—should the Queen of Chaos and her foul consort gain control of the rod."

  Parnish glared at me, apparently wondering if I was convinced. I nodded to reassure him, realizing that he had outlined a very large problem. At the same time, I was liberated by the sensation that it was no longer my problem.

  "What are you doing about it?" Saysi asked bluntly.

  "I intend to assemble the rod before the queen can retrieve the pieces. When all seven parts are brought into proper conjunction, it is an artifact of absolute, ultimate law. As such, I shall wield it to drive chaos into abeyance."

  Nodding silently, I privately wished him luck. At the same time, I decided that it would soon be time to get as far as possible from Parnish Fegher's reign of "ultimate law."

  "Ah, here's Carrall. I believe your clothes are completed," declared the wizard.

  I turned to see the elder tailor bowing, mutely, of course, in the door to the library.

  "He and Rathentweed will escort you to your quarters. You may rest for the afternoon, or peruse my library as you will. I have many preparations to make myself, but I will see you all for dinner."

  With that, Parnish spun about and stalked from the chamber by a different door than we had entered.

  "This way," declared the officious gnome, leading us back into the hall. We followed him up a wide stairway flanked by railings of polished ebony, and we were pleasantly surprised as he led us into an area of airy rooms, with soft furs on the floors and several large windows providing a view of the well-ordered estate grounds within the octagonal wall,

  "Rathentweed," Saysi asked as the gnome bowingly showed us each a private bedroom. "Parnish said that seven is the most chaotic of numbers. What did he mean? How can one number be more chaotic than others?"

  "It should be obvious!" He clucked disapprovingly at our ignorance, but nevertheless launched into an enthusiastic explanation. "The more well ordered a number, the more evenly it can be broken into components. Numbers such as eight—and, by extension, thirty-two, one hundred and twenty-eight, and so forth—are precisely reached. They are numbers of nearly perfect law. Numbers such as six, or thirty, for example, are neutral. They can be broken into equal components only so far, for they are based upon a chaotic root such as three or five. Seven is the most vile of these, for ever have the servants of chaos used it as their talisman."

  "I see," I muttered hastily, having heard far more than I wanted to about law and chaos and numbers and worlds. Opening the door to our chambers, I waited for the gnome to depart.

  Badswell merely grunted, looking at his fingers. "Two and two... that's four. And two fours, makes eight. But seven is two of nuthin'."

  "Splendid!" Rathentweed beamed up at the hulking half-ogre. "I can tell that you will be a very apt pupil."

  "Not to interrupt schooltime, but perhaps you'll give us leave to change into these splendid garments?" I reminded the gnome of his purpose in showing us the chambers.

  "Of course!" he said, bowing deeply. All but pushing him out the portal, I closed the door behind him.

  "Did you see what I noticed?" Fixing my eyes on Saysi, I spoke in a whisper as soon as the gnome was out of earshot.

  "What?" she wondered.

  I pointed at the big panes of glass. "Windows! We can get out of here... escape! I'll break one if we can't find a way to open it!"

  "Escape?" She surprised me with a look of befuddlement. "Why?"

  "What kind of a question is that?" I shifted my attention to Badswell. "Don't you want to make a run for it?"

  The surprises were not over for the day. The big half-ogre scowled in an expression of deep thought, though the question was clearly not that complicated. "I dunno," he muttered finally. "I think mebbe not right now."

  "But we're prisoners! Trapped here against our will! Parnish even stole our pieces of the rod. Surely you must want to get away from him!"

  "I think maybe he can put the rod to far better use than we could have," Saysi said—with irrefutable logic, I had to admit. "But can't you see, Kip? We're involved in something terribly important here! I think I'd like to see it through to the end."

  I couldn't believe my ears. "Law and chaos aren't affairs that concern us! Freedom or imprisonment—those are important. And I want to be free!"

  "Free in a world that succumbs to chaos and dies?" Saysi retorted shar
ply. "You saw that painting. Is that what you want for the world?"

  "No, of course not! But how can I change what's going to happen?"

  "You can help! Each of us had a piece of that rod, and I don't think it was an accident. Patrikon knows there are patterns beyond things that you or I can discern, and I think we're seeing some of those effects right now! Kip, chaos is the enemy—not just of Parnish, or of Patrikon and his followers, but of everyone! I'm not about to run away when I could do something useful—perhaps even make a real difference for once in my life."

  "You make a big difference—to me!" I objected. "Come with me. We'll get away from here. We—we could even get married!" I blurted out the idea before I realized what I was saying.

  Saysi looked at me archly. "Is that supposed to be some kind of irresistible bribe?"

  "No! I mean, we can go where you want to... do what you want. But we should be together!"

  She sighed heavily, then looked at me with those melting-chocolate eyes. "You can do what you want. I know you will, regardless of what I say. But I'd really like you to stay here with me."

  "Stay with us," Badswell noted firmly. He looked out the window, at a vista of blue sky and pleasant greenery. "We can always run away later."

  "If we're still alive," I groused.

  Sulking, I went to my room and sat on the bed. Beside me was an array of colorful, shiny material, where the tailors had laid out my new clothes. Intrigued in spite of my mood, I decided to try them on. Silken trousers fit perfectly, and a matching tunic and jacket added a dashing cut, I thought, to my trim figure. Satisfied, I looked in the full-length mirror, turning this way and that. As a gesture of independence, I ignored the supple moccasins that had been provided. I wasn't about to change a basic fact of halfling life merely to accommodate someone's rules.

  Feeling a little better, I emerged to find Saysi resplendent in a blue silk gown that swirled about her shapely legs. Tight at the waist, it swept upward to the fullness of her small breasts and seemed to bring a healthy glow to her round cheeks. She blushed as I looked her over, and I privately concluded that maybe it wouldn't be too bad to stick around here and see what happened next.

  I was glad to see that Saysi, too, had rejected the slippers that the tailors had made for her. When a mute attendant arrived and escorted us to the dining room, Parnish looked disdainfully at our bare feet, but, somewhat surprisingly, decided to make no comment.

  Dinner was served on time, naturally. Silent servants brought out platters of veal and vegetables, no doubt in precisely measured portions. Fortunately for Badswell, the cook factored the size of the various diners into his equations, so the half-ogre got a serving adequate for his bulk. We halflings were content with human-sized portions and grateful that the cooks had considered the fact that, though our stature is only about half that of a man's, our appetites are every bit the equals of our larger cousins.

  "Tell us more about the Rod of Seven Parts," Saysi asked as she delicately lifted a forkful of peas. Badswell and I, sensing the wizard's disapproving eyes, vainly tried to mimic the little priestess's table manners.

  "You will be learning much in the hours to come," Parnish said mysteriously. "As I indicated, it is an artifact of almost unlimited power. It is said that it can even be used to bring a person back from the dead, though that creates such a drain on the rod's power that it would almost certainly shatter, again casting all the pieces loose into the worlds once more."

  "Now you have five pieces here?" I inquired. "Do you know where the others are?"

  "No, alas. As you know, the power of the rod is such that the bearer of a piece will almost certainly feel the direction to the next larger piece."

  Saysi, Bads, and I nodded; we had all experienced the uncanny sense of direction. The wizard continued with his explanation. "But with the fifth piece in my hand, I received no such indication. This leads me to believe that it is somewhere very distant, perhaps even on a different plane."

  "Or destroyed?" I suggested.

  "No—by all the worlds, no!" roared the wizard, turning furious eyes upon me. "Each piece is indestructible! It has existed for eons, and it shall outlast each and every one of us—and our grandchildren, and their grandchildren as well!"

  We finished in awkward silence, but Parnish seemed to have recovered his temper as he excused us from the table and preceded us to another chamber of his house, a place we had not seen before.

  Entering a circular room with a high, domed ceiling, I noticed that several benches had been placed near the walls. Flickering, reddish illumination sputtered through the area, originating from a pair of torches set in wall sconces. To my memory, this was the first room in the mansion not lit by the ubiquitous chandeliers.

  Parnish bade us sit upon the benches while he stalked to the center of the chamber. Several heavy stone tables had been arranged in a row there, and upon each sat a chip of ebony—five tables and five pieces of the rod. They had been arranged with the smallest—formerly my little curing stick—to the left, progressing to the largest at the other end. That segment, I guessed, was not quite a foot long.

  "I must insist upon absolute silence," Parnish Fegher said in a voice that would brook no disobedience. For once, I was not inclined to argue with the magic-user. In truth, the somber preparations had left me a little awestruck. The black stubs of the rod seemed so ominously potent, so mysterious and frightening as they rested on their slab tables, that I was happy to be quiet and inconspicuous.

  Abruptly the torches died, flames sizzling into steam, as if an unseen hand had capped them. The smell of smoldering wood filled the room, which was completely, utterly dark. My hand found Saysi's, and I sensed her staring—as was I—toward the place where we had last seen Parnish Fegher. We heard him chanting, speaking strange words in a deep voice, pronouncing each foreign sound with a precise and rhythmic cadence.

  A dim glow slowly appeared, an aura expanding to surround the smallest of the rod's segments. In the pale illumination, I saw that Parnish had etched a series of hieroglyphic symbols onto the stone surface of the table. Now these sigils flickered with bluish flame, forming a circle of cool, silent fire around the ebony stick.

  Gradually, one by one, the other four pieces began to glow, wrapped by the gauzy cocoons of mysterious fire. When all five segments were shrouded within these auras, the light was barely bright enough for us to make out the form of the wizard, now standing near the middle of the row of tables. Parnish Fegher's eyes picked up a flash of reflection as he stared fixedly at one after another of the rod's pieces. Turning my head to the side, I sought some sign of Saysi, but the illumination didn't reach this far; if it hadn't been for her hand in my own, I wouldn't have known she was there.

  Parnish barked a word, the sound cutting like a knife, sharp and forceful in the tense, darkened room. I couldn't suppress a gasp of astonishment as I saw the smallest piece of the rod slowly rise into the air. Still outlined by that peculiar glow, it hung suspended, a foot or two above the table. One by one, in ascending order, the other segments levitated until all five dangled in the air.

  They lined up perfectly, as far as I could tell, and slowly began to drift closer together. Remembering the way Badswell's piece had disappeared, I surprised myself by hoping that Parnish knew what he was doing. Perhaps this was only because I didn't want to have to face his rage if he was thwarted, but deep inside I admitted that I, too, wanted to see the pieces successfully joined.

  Slowly the segments drifted closer, until no more than two feet separated each part from the nearest neighboring pieces. Now they ceased their movement as the blue fires on the tables flared upward with increasing brightness. Parnish continued to chant bizarre words, sending shivers of apprehension along my spine as I sensed his casting building to a crescendo.

  Ultimately the wizard's voice rose into a commanding bark, and faster than I could follow, the five pieces shot through the air—or rather, the four largest moved, arrowing in line toward the smallest se
gment while the latter remained fixed in place.

  With the boom of a nearby thunderclap, the second piece touched the first; three more explosions rocked the room in quick succession as the next parts of the staff came together. My ears rang, and I heard Saysi gasp in fright beside me as sound continued to reverberate, echoes rumbling like fading thunder through the room.

  I felt a sense of shocking disorientation as a wash of cool light spilled toward us from all around. When I swiveled my head, I saw that the walls of the room—indeed, the entire mansion—had disappeared. Instead, we were surrounded by a ring of towering, startlingly regular peaks. In the shadows from the foot of the mountain range, I sensed many powerful beings watching, and vaguely guessed that these were the wind dukes.

  But how had we come to be here? Where was this place? Where were we? I saw Parnish Fegher standing before us, the segments still floating, now as one black stick about three feet long. Then the mountainous horizon began to fade, and I saw another being lurking in the darkness.

  I recognized the handsome head flanked by the two snarling wolves that I had seen on the painting. Miska the Wolf-Spider watched us through a film of gauzy haze, three pairs of eyes glittering with hatred and fury. I wanted to crawl away and hide, but, paralyzed by that hideous and omnipotent gaze, I was unable to move a muscle. The beast stood upon the platform of a lofty castle, with a great chasm yawning beyond and a sky of whirling colors storming above.

  Then, beyond Miska, rose an even greater, more horrifying figure, a mountainous image of evil and chaos. I saw a grotesque bloated face, green eyes flashing hatred, mouth twisted into a sneer of cruel anticipation as tentacles lashed and twitched around the creature's vast torso, slurping wetly across the slick smoothness of floor...

  And I knew that the Queen of Chaos was watching as well.

  CHAPTER 16