The Rod of Seven Parts

by Douglas Niles

  "But once there was water, a whole waterfront." Saysi whirled to face me. "Kip, you remember. We walked along that waterfront! It's the first place you kissed me."

  "Well, sure." The night had been one of the most romantic of my life; again I pictured the full moon setting her copper hair alight. I looked around, seeing nothing that resembled the setting of our walk. "But... that wasn't here. Was it?"

  Parnish, after looking the area over, had ceased to listen to our debate. Grimly the wizard started across the yard, seeking a silk-robed merchant standing before an enclosure. As we followed, I was intrigued by the large gray animals in the corral behind the vendor.

  "How can I help the esteemed lord?" asked the merchant, bowing low before Parnish Fegher.

  "I wish to purchase elephants and supplies for an overland journey."

  I didn't pay attention to the rest of the conversation, since I heard Saysi gasp in astonishment. Before I could try to calm her down, I was abruptly annoyed by the loss of another button. It popped right off of my vest, and when I tried to pull the garment shut, I found that my chest was too broad to be enclosed.

  CHAPTER 17

  THE STATURE OF A CHAMPION

  The steppe lands, Parnish said these were called. I thought the name inappropriate, because in my mind "steppe" meant "stairs," and stairs meant going up and down. As far as I could see in any direction, there wasn't the slightest hint of an increase or decrease in the surrounding elevation.

  And from the back of my elephant, I could see pretty far. The creature lurched along with a gait that snapped my head backward and forward with each lumbering step, forcing me to grasp the railing that surrounded the enclosure—it was much more than a saddle—where Badswell, Saysi, and I rode. Before us plodded another of the great, gray-skinned beasts, this one bearing Parnish Fegher and the gnome, Rathentweed.

  The animals themselves, I was forced to admit, were magnificent. Great ears flapped like sails in the hot air, creating a bit of a breeze along the elephants' flanks—and over us passengers as well. The creatures seemed tireless. On this, the day we departed Argenport, they had lumbered along for more than eight hours without any sign of faltering and complaint.

  In fact, the only distressing thing about the journey so far was the vague memory of disquiet—that, and Saysi's constant declarations that we were supposed to be crossing an ocean.

  "How can you not be upset?" She started in on us again as the sun plunged toward the flat western horizon. "We went to the waterfront to book passage on a ship!"

  "There was no waterfront!" I retorted, growing increasingly peeved with her irrational insistence. "How can you book a ship to cross a grassland?"

  "Elephants are kind of like ships," Bads, the peacemaker, suggested. "And this flat ground is sorta like a sea of grass, don'tcha think?"

  "Sure," I agreed, anxious for an explanation that didn't mean Saysi was losing her mind.

  "Kip, we walked along that waterfront together," she said quietly. "Near the temple of Patrikon—the temple that wasn't there."

  "We did that, I know," I replied. "But... things change. Sometimes there are differences after a time."

  " 'Things' don't change as they did today!" Saysi smacked me across the back of the head in her frustration. "Last night we all talked about it. Parnish was going to talk to a sea captain about getting on a ship!"

  "Ouch! Hey, stop it!" The little priestess was impossibly stubborn and, when I turned around to glare at her, not the least bit apologetic. Her tiny fingers clutched the jade amulet at her neck, and she met my stare with an equally belligerent look of her own.

  Furious, I whirled around to face the front, then winced as I felt another line of stitching give way, this time down the right side of my splendid tunic. Already one shoulder had torn, and several buttons had popped off both my trousers and my shirt.

  "Now see what you made me do!" I sulked, though the air that washed against my skin was actually rather refreshing. Still, that was the third tear today, and the sleeves felt so tight that I wondered if the clothing made by Parnish's tailors was actually shrinking on my body.

  Instead of a sharp reply, Saysi remained silent, though I could feel her eyes on my back. Still, her emotion didn't seem to be anger; rather, it was a sort of deep concern that made me worry more than ever about her sanity. She had always been a trifle rigid, but it seemed to me that she was having a very hard time adapting to... adapting to what? Had things really changed?

  I was starting to get a headache, and I didn't think it came from Saysi's slap.

  "This just makes it all that much more important that we succeed—that Parnish can assemble the rod," she declared, as if expecting me to argue.

  "Well, of course," I concurred, anxious to find some grounds for agreement. "That's where we're going, to find the sixth part."

  The caravansary agent in Argenport had provided us, or rather our elephants, with large casks of water in addition to a normal outlay of provisions, and as we began to look for a place to camp, the reason became apparent. It occurred to me that we had gone through the entire day without sign of so much as a creek, swamp, or watering hole. Our camp would be made, obviously, at some featureless point on the featureless terrain, amid grass tall enough to conceal Saysi and me from view.

  But the lush vegetation proved not to be so deep as I had imagined when Parnish finally indicated a halt and I slid down the rope ladder we unrolled from the elephant's shoulder. The carpet of plantlife proved to be only neck-high to me as I held the base of the ladder steady and waited for Saysi to descend.

  She let go at the end and tumbled a surprising distance to the ground, rising to look up at me from amid the grass. Her face was startlingly pale, her eyes wide with fright.

  "What is it?" I asked, spinning to see if something behind me had frightened her.

  "Y-You're growing," she stammered, clasping a hand to her mouth as she blinked several times in disbelief.

  "What do you mean?" I countered, distressed by this sign of further confusion. I planted my hands on my hips, looking down at her, knowing that I had always been taller than she. Hadn't I? But had it been by a full head? No... she was right. The memories came to me through a dim haze.... Once there had been a time when we'd been practically the same size.

  "Chaos!" she declared in a whisper of horror, her brown eyes wide with fear. "It's changing everything!"

  Another seam ripped in my clothes as, this time, my breeches let go down the left leg. I realized that the cuffs of my blouse had crept halfway up my forearms, while at some point I had discarded my leather belt. I tried to convince myself that my garments were shrinking, but in the face of Saysi's assertion, such delusion proved increasingly difficult.

  "But how?" I asked stupidly. "I grew up a long time ago. I've been the same size for years and years!"

  "I tell you, it's chaos!" declared the little priestess, glaring at Parnish as the wizard and the gnome came over to join us. "It's increasing in strength, affecting us all."

  "That's impossible," snapped Parnish Fegher. He clutched his portion of the Rod of Seven Parts in both hands, brandishing it against the air as a fighter might wield a pole arm. Eyes wide, he glared around us, as if chaos was some hideous monster waiting to attack.

  "Kip's growing. He's added half a foot or more since we left your estate, just today," Saysi declared bluntly.

  The wizard looked at my shredded garments, then reached out a hand to touch the top of my head, as if to confirm my actual height. "Nonsense!" he snapped. "His clothes are shrinking. My tailor must have cut his costs by purchasing inferior materials! It'll cost the wretch his job!"

  "Can't you see?" Saysi demanded, turning to Badswell.

  "Kip's always been pretty small—still is," declared the half-ogre with a noncommittal shrug.

  "Of course!" Rathentweed declared, tottering toward me and tilting his head to peer up into my eyes. "It's just the clothes!" he insisted.

  Stomping her foot in agitati
on, Saysi clutched her amulet, looking angrily at the others. When she turned to me, I felt the heat of her emotion as a strangely disturbing force.

  "Maybe—maybe they're right." I saw from the set of her rounded chin that these were the wrong words, but I blundered ahead. "I mean, it could be that you just don't remember...."

  I sensed the truth—that it was we who didn't remember—but how could that be the case? I admitted that my memories of Argenport, the seaport city, were increasingly vague....

  Too many thoughts were conflicting with each other in my mind, and the result was a terrible headache. Turning my back on Saysi, I helped unload the big cargo satchels from the elephants. The massive leather sacks were lowered, still clasped shut, by slowly releasing the straps that bound them in place. When they were on the ground, we could flip them open and have easy access to all our belongings.

  With no firewood for dozens of miles in every direction, we ate a cold supper and had a lightless camp. Still, the night breeze remained balmy, and the black vault of the sky was brightened by more stars than I had ever seen in my life. So clear and brilliant were the multitude of these diamondine specks that the familiar constellations—the bear, the shield, and the spider, among a few others—were fully masked by shining newcomers. It was as if the gods had decided to speckle the heavens with a million new stars.

  "Kip?" Saysi sat next to me as we stared upward in wonder. "Do you remember this sky? These stars?"

  "Sure... well, not all them. But of course I do. I mean, this is the same old night sky, just a little more clear than we're used to."

  "I... I hope you're right. I really do—even if it means that I'm losing my mind." I wrapped an arm around her, sheltering her easily against my side, and held her until her gentle breathing indicated that she slept. Only then did my own eyelids close as the stars beamed down on a peaceful night of rest.

  One thing about camping in the desert, I learned the next morning, is that sand gets into everything. Awakening slowly, I spat the tiny granules from my parched lips, rubbing them into crumbs from my eyelids before I could even begin to see. Badswell, Parnish, and Rathentweed slept nearby; like myself, they were partially drifted over by miniature dunes that had blown across us during the night.

  Fortunately my cloak had kept Saysi—who still slept, curled in the crook of my arm—relatively free from the sand. Thus her discomfort surprised me as she opened her eyes and looked wildly around.

  "It's all right," I said soothingly. "The wind blew some sand over us, but you were covered pretty well." Lifting my arm, I drew back my large cloak and gestured at the expanse of rolling dunes. "And it appears it's going to be another nice day," I added encouragingly, as if we could have experienced anything else on this long, sandy trek.

  "D-D-Don't you remember?"

  Saysi was pale and trembling, looking searchingly into my eyes as she touched her amulet and stared wildly around our desert camp. "The steppes? The flat ground extending forever, covered with tall grass?"

  "Yes, sure... but that was a long time ago... before we moved into the desert. Remember?"

  That headache was getting started again.

  By this time, Parnish had risen. Holding his assembled segments of the rod, he stalked briskly back and forth, prodding Badswell and Rathentweed. "Up, up! Time to get back on the march!"

  "And what about the elephants?" Saysi demanded, pulling away from me and standing to glare at all of us. "Don't tell me that none of you remember them. Riding on top of those big animals?"

  "Yes, that was really something." My memories were clearer on this point. "Nice way to travel. But it was a long time ago."

  Standing, I tried to shake the sand out of my loose and billowing cloak. I clapped the half-ogre on the shoulder, then leaned down to smile encouragingly into Saysi's concerned face.

  "Look out!" Badswell shouted suddenly, scrambling to draw his big axe.

  Something large loomed against the skyline, a four-footed creature with a gaping, tooth-studded maw. The beast rose from behind a nearby dune and lumbered toward us. A second monster, like the first as big as a small house, charged just behind its mate.

  Goldfinder, feeling about as dangerous as a toothpick, gleamed in my hand; I pushed Saysi behind me and stepped forward to stand beside the half-ogre. Twin visages of gaping mouths, each lined with drooling tusks, rushed closer. The beasts loped quickly on large, padded feet, thudding heavily, each step lifting a puff of sand into the air.

  One of the monsters roared, a bellowing explosion of thunder like the rage of some monstrous lion. In fact, there was something vaguely catlike about the broad feet, the wide skulls with raised foreheads and keen, hungry eyes. Yet the long tails lashed with supple control, more like tentacles than feline appendages, and the mouths were grotesque and unnatural. Circles of fangs, they flexed open and closed like the sucking maw at the center of an octopus's body.

  "Where'd they come from?" I wondered aloud as Badswell swiped his axe, sending the nearest of the monsters rearing backward. The other circled to the side, and I skirted around to face it. Parnish, holding his five-sevenths of the rod in both hands, stepped forward to face the beast on the other flank, while Rathentweed scrambled through the sand in a desperate effort to get away.

  I stabbed upward with my short sword, but the weapon, which was little more than a dagger in my brawny hand, failed to connect with the bristling jaws of the nearest sand beast. For the first time in my memory, I found myself wishing for a more deadly weapon. Goldfinder was just too damned small. Those sharp fangs clicked audibly as the monster snapped, sending me tumbling down the side of the dune as I leapt away.

  Badswell boldly stepped into the creature's path, slashing with the gleaming battle-axe, and the huge, catlike body once again reared back, thwarted in its pursuit. Standing again, I shook sand from my hair and clothes, wiping a hand across my face as I whirled to confront the second of the gargantuan attackers.

  The monster crouched, sinuous tail lashing, creeping forward on those massive feet. Even in its squatting position, it was as large as a big horse, and considerably bulkier. Through the sand, I could feel the impact of each heavy step, a series of quaking thuds that grew more pronounced as the beast padded closer. Baleful eyes of gleaming yellow blinked from beneath hooded lids, enhancing the vaguely feline appearance of the monstrous being, though I had never seen a cat even half so large.

  We backed away, through the dip at the base of the large dune, staying together as we retreated carefully up the slope on the opposite side. Saysi and Rathentweed went first, with the wizard, the half-ogre, and me falling back carefully below them.

  Showing no inclination for a sudden rush, the hulking monsters came slowly after us, as if content to observe our fearful retreat.

  "Cease, beasts!" roared Parnish, suddenly stopping on the side of the dune and holding up his staff of ebony in both hands. He bore the rod horizontally, peering over its smooth black line as he stared first at one of the monsters, then the other. "I bid you—cease!"

  Surprisingly, the creatures seemed to understand. In fact, they halted their advance at the base of the dune, looking upward at Parnish with expressions as bland and unthreatening as any cud-chewing cow's.

  Looking around tensely, I searched for some sign of a threat. I held Goldfinder ready in my big hand, and saw that Badswell, too, had his weapon raised. The half-ogre looked at me with a scowl of confused frustration.

  "Where'd they go?" I asked, not entirely certain what it was we had been fighting.

  "Dunno. Only thing I see are the camels," he said, slipping his axe through his belt with an embarrassed shrug.

  "Bad-tempered animals," I agreed. "But not dangerous."

  I was a little confused, then, trying to remember where I had left my turban and spare cloak. Once again that persistent headache nagged at me, shooting brief stabs of pain from my temples to my forehead.

  "Best get mounted," declared the wizard, striding boldly down the slope of sand
. "Daylight's wasting, and we have a long way to go today."

  Parnish's words made sense, so I went along with him, returning to our sandy camp. The two camels waited placidly while we pulled the heavy saddlebags from the drifts of sand, dusting them off and securing their heavy leather flaps for another day of our dry crossing.

  Rathentweed and Badswell helped to secure our belongings. Only Saysi remained distant, staring down at us from the heights of the dune, her wide, fearful eyes shifting back and forth from the two great, shaggy camels to her four companions.

  "What happened?" she cried finally, shambling down the dune to confront me.

  "We're packing the camels!" I declared crossly, looking down at the little halfling with increasing annoyance. "You could help a little, you know."

  "What camels?" she demanded, with the committed persistence of the truly insane.

  "Are you blind as well as crazy?" This was getting to be too much. The massive, double-humped animals stood side by side, no more than a dozen feet away from us. A shift in the desert winds even brought the pungent and familiar scent of the animals wafting past us.

  "By the gods, Saysi, surely you can at least smell them!"

  "Of course I can! But can't you, any of you, remember that yesterday we didn't have any camels? And just a few minutes ago they were fanged monsters, ready to gobble us up for breakfast!"

  My anger melted, replaced by the all-too-familiar concern. One of the camels chewed meditatively, working its long jaw from side to side and revealing a glimpse of several worn, yellowed molars. There was nothing even vaguely resembling a sharp tooth in the animal's admittedly disgusting maw.

  "What about the monsters?" Saysi pressed again. "Do you remember them? We were retreating up the dune, fighting for our lives, until Parnish changed them into camels!"

  "Law will ever triumph over disorder, my dear," declared Parnish. "But to suggest that I have the power to transform hideous monsters into useful beasts of burden is going too far."