“Leland, Lyle!”
The men were fitted and stepped into the ring, looking relaxed. Leland had mentioned that Lyle was the combat leader for the morning class, so he imagined that Leland must be pretty good himself to be so unworried.
Lyle launched into an offensive, shuffling forward behind his flickering staff. Leland was forced to retreat along a circular path around the ring, his own staff licking out to counter and riposte every few seconds. Daniel noticed that Lyle seemed to be relying on his superior staff skills, rather than any mobility offered by better flow management. Even so, he eventually scored three hits on Leland without taking one himself, the last one a vicious jab to the face that snapped Leland’s head backwards and dumped him on the ground with booming thud. Lyle nodded to Master Dashel and left the mat, leaving Leland to struggle to his feet alone.
“Daniel, Iyah!”
Daniel was surprised, but he stepped to the front gamely. Master Dashel slipped the vest over his head and held it just off of his shoulders with no apparent effort.
“You’ll get no staff, since you have no training in it. Your goal is simply to avoid having your vest touched by Iyah’s staff for as long as possible. Ready?”
Daniel nodded and a mountain range settled across his shoulders. He pulled hard at the Veil, trying to feel the current rushing through himself as a steady, unending stream, and stepped unsteadily onto the mat. He could feel the hard leather compress under his feet. Iyah donned her vest by herself and stepped lightly into the ring as if she were wearing a windbreaker. Master Dashel and the class faded from his awareness, his world was just the ring, the weight, and Iyah.
“Okay,” she said to him softly, “first we get used to moving. Dodge left as I approach.” She swept her staff outward in a leisurely arc, and Daniel plodded left, nearly toppling over as the vest kept going after he had decided to stop. He quickly learned that it took far more strength to move the vest predictably than it did to just swing it around, revealing to him why the more advanced students tried to move so smoothly. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to work for him. Having no staff to block with, he was going to have to be much more maneuverable than that.
“I’m going to attack from the left and then the right, so you’ll need to switch directions quickly.” She took one long step forward and thrust to Daniel’s left. He shoved right and managed to just get himself out of the way when she swung her staff around in an arc behind her and came quickly down towards his right. He couldn’t kill his momentum in time, must less reverse it. The staff slapped him loudly in the side.
“Again.” He needed more strength. It wasn’t sufficient to be strong enough to manhandle his bulk around the ring, he needed to be strong enough to move naturally with his balance intact. Unfortunately, he already felt like he was sucking a milkshake through a straw, he simply couldn’t pull any harder than this.
The staff came, and he staggered out of the way. It came back on the other side, and smacked him soundly.
“Again!” Handling the Veil was a matter of working through a conceptual framework that allowed the conscious mind to manipulate something that could be only tenuously experienced. Obviously, the framework he was using sucked. What worked for him was a liquid metaphor, of drawing power from the active flow of a current. He was attempting to force a current by pulling hard through an imagined conduit. But what if that wasn’t necessary? What if the Veil were more like a vast river, always moving, or more accurately, always pushing power at a higher potentiality, just needing to be tapped? How would you feel the most flow in a river? You wouldn’t put a straw in it and sip from the bank. You’d wade in and get as deep as you could.
The blow came from the right, and he lurched heavily to the left, barely avoiding it. He imagined that he was surrounded by a rigid cylinder, keeping a vast, churning river at bay. Then he pictured the obstruction crumbling under the onslaught of the irresistible current, the pieces swept away by a rushing torrent of water all around him. Better, but still not enough. He then imagined that he was insubstantial, ghostly, and that the mighty current swept through and past him, while he remained submerged in the center of a stretch of endless boiling rapids.
The instant he stopped trying to channel an imaginary current through the confines of his body, and instead simply allowed himself to be part of it, everything changed.
He forgot about the river and experienced the sea. The Veil revealed itself to him in its motion, surging with vast, ponderous tides. Being able to feel it directly gave him a kind of mental traction, something he could sense directly and understand. Power welled up inside of him.
The staff came in from the left. Daniel ducked under it and skipped away. He heard a yell from Leland, but ignored it. A smile flickered across Iyah’s face for just a moment, then she jumped forward, staff outstretched. Daniel pivoted to one side. It came again, in a sweeping arc. He threw himself under it, hitting the ground with a solid thud, and rolled to his feet.
He jumped over a low sweep, narrowly spun away from an overhead blow, and ducked under a wide, circular pass, the wooden staff humming as it cut through the space his head had occupied a split second earlier.
Despite the euphoria of his newfound ability, he was tiring rapidly. It was a peculiar sensation. His body felt energized and nimble, while his mind began to get increasingly sluggish and foggy. He skipped away from another blow, and his vision darkened. He held up one hand to signal that he needed to stop, and Iyah halted her staff in mid-swing. She tossed it out of the ring to Master Dashel who caught it neatly out of the air, and approached him, ready to catch the vest to keep it from crushing him if he fell wrong.
With a deep steadying breath, Daniel eased himself to the mat, releasing his hold on the Veil only after he was flat on his back. He lay there, looking up at the dark paneled ceiling and dazzling suspended lights and let Iyah release the buckles on the harness, the tip of her long ponytail brushing lightly across his face as she bent over him.
As his head cleared, he felt a harsh burning sensation and turned to look at his Arc. It was covered with frost and curling wisps of white vapor, and it felt like it was trying to chew its way through his arm. He stood up quickly and wrapped his other hand around the achingly cold metal in order to try and warm it. Since the flow of power had stopped, it was already returning to room temperature, just not fast enough for his liking.
“You didn’t try to Walk, did you?” asked Iyah with a frown, taking his hand and turning it back and forth so she could see all around the Arc. Her fingers felt warm and gentle against his palm. He had to swallow before he could answer.
“No, I never even thought about Walking.”
She made a noncommittal noise and let go of his hand. “Tell the Doc about this next time you see him. These aren’t supposed to feed back on you unless you try to Walk, which draws a very large amount of Veil energy for the split second it takes to cross. It’s completely unlike what we do, pulling a smaller amount of power for a much longer duration.”
He nodded and they stepped off of the mat together.
Master Dashel addressed the class before they were dismissed, but Daniel didn’t hear anything that he said. A few minutes later, Iyah and Master Dashel had left, and everyone was back in the dressing room.
Daniel was exhausted and leaden, like the harness was still pressing down on him, only now it was strapped to every limb. He put his clothes back on slowly while Leland enthused next to him.
“Holy shit, my son, that was something! You looked just like Master Dashel, or her highness of the white ponytail out there. Totally fucking smooth, you were. Ducking and weaving like it was nothing at all.”
Daniel snorted. “Yeah, until I dropped on my ass and had to be unstrapped by my opponent. That was real smooth, alright.”
Leland looked at him for a long moment, his face serious. “You’re a good guy, you know that, Danny? Maybe it’s just because you don’t know what you’ve done out there, but anybody else would be strutt
ing around like he owned the place right now.”
Daniel just shrugged, embarrassed.
“Anyway, look,” continued Leland, “we’re having a little get together tomorrow night in town. It’s Tenny’s birthday, so we’re throwing him a bash at the Black Barrel. You want to come?”
Daniel really wanted to see what things looked like off campus, so he nodded.
“Great, I’ll swing by your place tomorrow evening and take you down, since you don’t know your way around yet.”
“Sounds good, see you later.”
Leland closed his locker and walked out. Daniel finished tying his tennis shoes, slung his bag over his shoulder, and stood up. He and Lyle were the last people in the locker room.
“Alone at last,” said Lyle. “I have a message from my Uncle Vincent.”
“Which is?”
Without expression Lyle whipped one concrete-like fist across Daniel’s face. The blow came so fast that Daniel never saw it coming, and the pain drove him to his hands and knees. He crouched on the ground drooling blood onto the spotless gray marble floor of the locker room. After a moment, the bloody pool receded as Lyle lifted him up one handed and looked him in the face with clinical detachment, searching one eye, then the other. After a moment’s consideration, he rammed his other fist into Daniel’s stomach and dropped him back onto the hard marble tile.
Daniel lay on his side with his guts on fire, his mouth open wide but unable to draw breath to scream, and tears streaming from his eyes. After an eternity, he managed to draw a shuddering, gasping breath. Lyle squatted down next to him.
“I have something for you.” He dropped a bundle wrapped in plain brown paper on the floor next to Daniel. “My uncle knows that you’re going to hand a brand new world over to Keldon, allowing him to keep control of the council. That’s unacceptable. Here’s what’s really going to happen. When they turn off your Arc restraint, you’re going to take that tracker I just gave you and Walk straight there. One of my uncle’s men will be watching for it, and use it to jump in a team and open a Sanctuary. Oh, and there’s some incentive for you not to screw this up in there as well.” Lyle stood up and walked out of the locker room, hands in his pockets.
Long minutes passed before Daniel could sit up. He spat blood onto the floor and wiped at his face, feeling his split and puffy lips. After a few experimental deep breaths, he groaned and stooped over, picked up the package, and tore it open with fumbling, hasty fingers.
His mouth went dry. Inside were two items. One was a rod about five inches long and half an inch thick, with a disk on top and finger grooves down the side, like a child’s bicycle handlebar grip. The other item was his mother’s hairbrush from her room at the Magnolia Acres Assisted Living Facility.
10
Daniel didn’t go to his session with Master Giric the next morning. He woke late, tangled up in sweaty sheets after a mostly sleepless night of helpless anger and worry. It took an hour-long shower to make him feel halfway human again.
He checked his face in the mirror and was surprised to see that only faint bruising and a slightly puffy lip remained of the explosion of black and purple that had wrapped around his left cheek and eye by the time he got home the previous evening. He got dressed with only the smallest twinge in his stomach muscles and ribcage and considered himself lucky.
He was sprawled out on his couch with a cold, forgotten cup of coffee in his hand, when someone knocked on his door.
He considered not answering it, but he figured that they would just let themselves in anyway, so he set down his mug and trudged to the door.
Surly was the theme of the day, so he grunted out, “What?”
“It’s us, we want to talk,” replied Saul through the door.
Daniel pulled it open and walked back to his spot on the couch. Saul and Iyah followed him in and sat in the overstuffed leather chairs that faced the sofa across a slender mahogany coffee table. Saul leaned forward in his chair and examined Daniel’s face.
“Heard you came home with some damage last night. Doesn’t look too bad.”
“And who’d you hear that from? You have people spying on me now?”
Saul laughed. “Not really necessary when you limped across the whole damn building with blood running out of your face. The way people were talking, I expected to find you half-dead in here.”
“It was a lot worse last night. But like Master Dashel says, you subconsciously draw power to help speed healing and all that, so it’s better today.”
Saul rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “That’s true, but I’d expect a couple of days at least to get cleaned up to what I see here. Still, a little blood will make anything look worse than it really is.”
Daniel shrugged.
“So, what happened?” asked Iyah.
“Before I answer that,” replied Daniel, “let me ask you guys something. You work for Mr. Keldon, right?”
She nodded, and Daniel continued, “And so does Gray. He’s supposed to keep tabs on my progress and make sure I attend these classes like a good boy, so that Mr. Keldon can get access to the world I may or may not have discovered as soon as possible. But Gray didn’t appear this morning to drag my ass in when I didn’t show up, which strikes me as pretty odd considering how much he likes a good sneer at my expense. So I figure that word of my little tussle got back to your boss, and instead of sending in the bad cop, he sent in the good cops to sympathize and get me back on track. Sound about right to you?”
Saul sighed and looked at Iyah. She nodded at him. “You’re right,” he began, “at least on the surface.”
He shook his head and pointed at his ear and then pointed at the ceiling. Then he pointed at Daniel’s bag, which was lying on the floor next to the couch, still holding the tracking device and brush. “But it’s kind of a long story. How about we go get some lunch and talk it over?” He nodded at Daniel with big exaggerated movements of his head.
Daniel hated this stuff. Wheels within wheels. The constant fear of keeping Bruce’s secrets while under round-the-clock surveillance was wearing on him.
“Fine. Whatever.”
They left in silence and didn’t speak again until they were outside. Daniel looked up into the sapphire sky and remembered a time when he would really have enjoyed a beautiful morning like this.
Saul headed off at a brisk walk and said, “Let’s eat off campus today, shall we?”
They walked down a road that was as wide as a four lane highway, made entirely out of interlocking flat brown stones. Fountains and flowerbeds sprouted out of the center of the road, often ringed by ornate wooden benches.
As they walked, Daniel related the events of the previous evening. After he was done with his tale, they continued on in silence. He didn’t have any evidence that Saul and Iyah were anything more than Keldon’s puppets, solely used to secure his cooperation, but in his gut he trusted them. They felt like good people. Besides, who else was he going to turn to? At least their boss should have enough clout to help, if it came to that.
At the edge of the official campus where the buildings were smaller and fewer, the road arched up and became a bridge that spanned a tidy river, no more than two hundred yards across. It ran clear and fast over a bed of rocks, glittering in the bright sunshine. They stopped at the top of the bridge with their elbows on the wide wooden railing.
The riverbanks near the bridge were crowded with small boat docks and restaurant patios, each sporting a lively collection of tiny people enjoying their day. Daniel watched a group of distant figures sitting around a table laughing over a meal.
“So, tell me about this Vincent guy.”
Saul pursed his lips. “The Guild is controlled by three main factions, the Walkers, the Channelers, and the Wayguides. Together they make up the Guild council. Since the Guild controls the governments of every world we’ve ever found, one way or another, that officially makes them in charge of everything, everywhere. There are nine members of the council, three sets of three peop
le each. As you would expect, only the faction head matters. Francis Keldon is it for the Walkers, Mason Waldgrove for the Wayguides, and your pal Lyle’s uncle, Vincent Cannette, is the head of the Channelers.
“In addition, one faction head is elected by the council to the role of council chairman, giving him leadership of the entire Guild. Right now, that would also be Francis Keldon.”
“So, I have the undivided attention of two of the most powerful people in the entire universe.” Daniel scrubbed at his forehead with one palm and grimaced. “I’m a lucky man.”
“Oh, I’m sure there’s plenty more than that paying attention to you, those are just the scariest ones. Except the Wayguide faction head, Mr. Waldgrove, who doesn’t really care who ends up getting your cooperation, as long as someone does. Any new Sanctuaries fall under his control.”
“Let me guess, the one that gets me to fork over the new world gets to be the next chairman. Because the only thing that would make this worse is if the stakes were who gets to be King of Everything.”
“Got it in one,” said Saul. “The council can cast a confidence vote on the chairman if enough members call for it. Keldon has been up there for a little over a hundred years now, and during that time the Guild hasn’t expanded at all. Not one new world. Nobody cared much up till now, because who wanted throw that stone, and then end up in the same position? But if somebody stood up with a new world in his pocket and called for a vote, he’d likely get it. And if he had the only access to a world that nobody else could get to? Ding, instant chairman.”
Walker Page 10
