by Taki Drake
<< I certainly hope he is going to share because I hate feeling this curious. >>
<< Dascha! You can hear everything now? >>
<< Apparently, I’m now hearing through your ears too. I was sitting here, dying of curiosity slowly, inch by inch. Ignored by my Witch, who had promised to give me a play-by-play. >>
<< Oops! >>
<< I really wanted to hear through your ears, and there was like a little pop, and suddenly, I am. >>
Quickly, Zhanna looked at the cord that tied Witch and Familiar together. Somehow, she was not surprised to see that a thin thread of that cord now went into her ears. Satisfied that she was starting to get oriented to the change in her abilities, the Witch turned her attention back to the discussion that was going on among the other three.
In just a few moments, the three of them had realized that although Saroc could not talk directly to Dascha, the Flamechild could act as a bridge, repeating commentary from one to the other. Mentally filtering out some of the repetition, Zhanna heard the tail end of a discussion that interested her a lot.
“Dascha, you are correct in that I require a source of flammables to remain on this plane. However, a being such as I exists on two planes at a time. I have a presence both on the physical plane where you are now and where your Witch’s body lies. I also am present on the astral plane where Zhanna’s spirit is sitting.”
“Fascinating. In the world that I come from, the existence of spirit planes is a hotly argued subject. Those of us that believe in their existence do so from fragmented experience. In my own life, I have learned that it is a place for communications but have never tried to travel in it.”
“Saroc, we definitely need to have a long talk at some point. Don’t you agree, Iskar?”
“Yes, Dascha, I totally agree. This is fascinating, but I believe Zhanna is back with us now, and we should find out what it is that she wants us to do.”
The young Witch stated bluntly, “I think you should go to my grandmother. I am not too sure why, but my intuition is pushing me that way. It is somehow important that you go there. Whether for your own good or that of my grandmother, I cannot be sure. However, I know that you would not be safe on the mission that we are involved in.”
The Flamechild paused in thought before asking “Will this mother-of-mothers understand what I am?”
Zhanna answered, “My Baba is a seer, one that peers into the future and the past. It would not surprise me if she had already seen you in some vision. However, I know that she will believe in you and will give you shelter as best she can.”
Saroc interrupted, asking, “How would she get to your Baba? I think it is a brilliant solution for the problem that we were just discussing. However, we don’t have the time to take a detour to deliver her back to your grandmother.”
The young Witch answered, “I read something in one of my books that says that the Elemental Children can travel through locations that contain a form of their element.” Turning to Iskar, Zhanna asked, “Can you travel from this fire to the one in my Baba’s kitchen?”
The Flamechild answered carefully, “If I know clearly where I am going, it is possible for me to travel between any two places of fire. However, I am not sure how I would gain an understanding of the placement of your mother-of-mother’s home.”
Stymied, Zhanna stared blankly at Iskar before coming to a sudden decision. Ignoring Dascha’s strangled, << Zhanna! What are you doing!? >>, the young Witch pictured a thin tendril of clear cord reaching from her to the Flamechild.
Bracing herself for impact, the young woman was overwhelmed as the thread touched Iskar’s form. Nothing that she had planned would have prepared her for the rush of images and feelings that flooded over that thin connection. Battered by the avalanche of confusing input, Zhanna crouched down into a little ball and let the pounding of strangeness bounce off the protective shell that she intuitively pictured in defense.
Opening her eyes, the Witch found herself in darkness. Panicking at the change, Zhanna stood up and slammed her head into the barrier that was only a short distance from where she had knelt. Bam! Her head rang with the sound and stars sparkled her vision. Extending her hand out, she felt a smooth shell. Faintly, she could feel the vibration of something or someone pounding on the outside of it.
What is this thing? I want to get out of here, I want this gone! Zhanna felt the internal “ping” that she had learned accompanied any of her spellcasting. The barrier around her disappeared, and light flooded her eyes once again. The strange thoughts and feelings once again started to hit her but not in such a confusing manner.
She was starting to make sense of them for the split second before a blow caught her across the side of the head, sending her tumbling over and over on the ground. Gasping in pain, she rolled onto her back only to be pinned down to the ground by her arms and legs.
An immense weight held her there, and the infuriated voice of her Familiar screeched into her brain, << Of all the scatterbrained kittens I have ever heard of, let alone experienced, you have to be the worst! How could you possibly not know what would happen when you opened yourself to somebody else’s thoughts and feelings without the safeguard of a filter. Not only is Iskar not the same species, but SHE’S ALSO NOT EVEN FROM THE SAME PLANE! Are you all hair and no brains? Somebody should have curled your whiskers when you were a kit! >>
Peering up into the furious face of the sabertoothed cat that was berating her, all Zhanna could do while tears of pain poured down her face was to say, << Sorry… >>
Chapter 25 – Detours
It had taken a while to get everything sorted out but in less than an hour and a half Iskar had safely transition to Bolormaa’s kitchen fire. Zhanna had watched intently as the Flamechild disappeared. A tantalizing glimpse of a portal opening, and the familiar shapes of her grandmother’s kitchen created a combination of curiosity and longing that sent sharp pangs through the young woman’s chest.
<< Dascha, is it only a few days since we left Baba? It seems like much longer. >>
<< A lot has happened in that short time. For anyone else, it would be weeks, but for some reason, you collapse action into shorter times. Every time I think we are going to have a quiet time, something else happens. But I knew that was a risk when we chose each other. >>
<< Are you ever sorry? I mean that you picked me for your Witch? >>
<< Never! >>
Dascha had resumed her normal shape, switching from her massive warrior form to her usual small cat size. Comfortingly, she rubbed her body along Zhanna’s leg, and let the rumble of her purr fill the air. The young Witch sat down on a log next to the fire and just rested for a few moments. Dascha leaned against her, continuing the nonverbal feline comfort and Saroc soon joined them.
The Hidden Folk amphibian was glancing between the Witch and Familiar, looking indecisive. When he didn’t start to speak, Zhanna asked, “Saroc? Do you have something you want to say or ask? I’m too tired to figure it out.”
“Yes, but I’m not sure exactly how to frame the question.”
<< How about if you just asked the question and we worry about the framework later. This has been a little bit of an exhausting day, and I would really like Zhanna to get some rest. So, spit it out, froggy face! >>
Saroc made the sound that indicated laughter for his species and asked, “The abilities that you two are showing together far exceed what you demonstrated when you swore your oath to help protect the Hidden Folk. Did you conceal your abilities then or has something happened to radically change what you can do separately and together?”
“I wasn’t hiding anything before. I’ve been practicing very hard and trying to work my way through some of the books that my mentors gave me, but I have no way of determining how capable I am.”
“It is noticeable even in the time that we have been around you that your learning is accelerated. Perhaps, you’ve gained the attention of one of the gods or some other powerful mentor.”
<< It is neve
r a good idea to get involved with gods. They always have their own agenda, and they don’t play fair. >>
“IT DEPENDS ON THE GOD!”
The roaring voice crashed through the spirit plane, tossing the campfire into smaller piles of dying coals and broken logs. Zhanna was upended and slammed violently to the ground, landing on her back. Struggling to breathe, the young woman tried to get back to her feet and check on her companions but was prevented from that by a swirl of wind that rose up around her, covering her surroundings in a gritty, blowing wall.
“Dascha! Saroc! Where are you?”
There was no answer to Zhanna’s screamed questions except the unforgiving whirl of the wind and the scraping sound of flying grit that scoured against the Witch’s skin. The young woman struggled against the gale, trying to get out of the center of the spinner but was unable to make any progress. Buffeted and disoriented, Zhanna was at first frightened and then incensed.
“STOP!” The surge of Magical energy that came up through her feet and out through her hands slammed the wind to a stop. In the sudden silence, the patter of dirt and gravel, now released to fall to the ground, could be clearly heard. Rubbing her eyes to clear her vision, Zhanna glanced around. Ignoring the backlash of Magical exhaustion that accompanied the unplanned draw on her power, she unconsciously crouched in a defensive position, hands up and ready to throw spells.
There was no one there. No one at all. Entirely absent was any hint or sign of her Familiar or Saroc. The campsite was erased so thoroughly it might never have been, leaving no indication of a fire or any member of her party. Instead, she stood at a familiar six-way crossroads, located in a featureless plane.
This is strange. Last time I came here, it was because I brought myself here in the middle of my sleep. I wonder why I’m here this time and who belongs to the voice that we heard.
“Which voice would that be?”
Zhanna spun in panic, again finding herself in a combat-ready posture. Even as she moved, she realized that she knew that voice. It belonged to one of her guides from her previous visits to this plane. With that knowledge, Zhanna exhibited no further indication of surprise when she had turned fully and saw Ilya, the large blonde Cossack who had helped her before.
The man had never offered her anything less than assistance and respect in the past. Exhibiting a non-threatening manner now, he was just standing there, looking patiently at her with a look of intense curiosity on his face and waiting for her response.
“It was a thunderous voice, so loud that it hurt my mind and ears. It interrupted what I was doing, and then I think the owner of that voice wrapped me up in a wind tunnel. When I got rid of it, I was here.”
“It is apparent that you’ve made a lot of progress since I saw you last. For you to dispel that conveyance is impressive, although I’m not totally sure that getting rid of it was to your benefit.”
“Why is that? I certainly didn’t want to continue to allow someone to attack me! And staying inside a prison seemed to be not conducive to my continued health.”
Glancing sideways at Ilya with a dart of her eyes, Zhanna was surprised to see a look of pride on the man’s face. As she turned to face him more fully, his expression smoothed out into the bland receptive and attentive one she had come to expect. << I wonder what that was about? >>
<< I do not know, Zhanna, but I will watch him carefully. It is strange that he seems proud of you. After all, you two are not connected, are you? >>
Zhanna was unsurprised to find her Familiar next to her, supporting her. The cat had followed her Witch as quickly as possible, knowing that Zhanna would feel Dascha coming and that only death would keep them apart.
<< No, until we met him on the previous spirit walk, I certainly had never seen him before. And I’ve never heard about anybody of his name that should’ve been important to me. >>
Zhanna could feel through their Familiar bond that Dascha was unsatisfied with her answer. Knowing the cat as she did, Zhanna was positive that Dascha would keep playing with the idea, just like she would attack a ribbon over and over again. Eventually, her stubborn Familiar would figure out what was going on.
Then Zhanna would know also.
Focusing her attention once more on her guide, Zhanna asked, “Do you know why I was brought here?”
Ilya answered with puzzlement and a certain degree of irritation in his voice, saying, “I certainly do not. Although it’s good that we have some time to review how your lessons are going, I know of no reason for you to have forcibly been brought here. In fact, I will be looking into that because it violates many of the agreements and arrangements that have been made.”
The young Witch started to ask about what “agreements and arrangements” had been set up and by whom, but she was interrupted by the abrupt appearance of Petra. The gnarled Guardian that Zhanna had last seen in a battle with an energy-sucking spell cast by the Blood Mage, Krava, was still frightening in appearance. However, the Guardian’s efforts to protect the young woman had been unstinting and had saved Zhanna’s life several times already.
It was impossible for the young Witch to look at Petra with anything but affection and gratitude. “Petra! It is nice to see you again.”
“Gold man, don’t be mad! Petra not strong like Lenc! Him fast and mean.”
It was Ilya that answered the pleading tone of Petra’s voice, saying, “I know, Petra. I’m not angry, and you followed Zhanna quickly which was good.”
Once again, Zhanna started to ask a question to clarify some piece of the new information when the area was rent with the sound of explosive entry. Dust swirled everywhere, and Zhanna felt Petra crouched against her leg, trembling.
As the dust settled, the young Witch could see that a fairly-ordinary looking man was standing there. If he had been smiling, he might have even been attractive, but the look of cold disdain and his pinched nostrils told her that this was not someone that cared if anyone liked him.
<< I certainly do not!>>
<
Chapter 26 – Rush to Judgment
At the lower end of her hearing, Zhanna could hear the crackle of flames and the hissing of snakes. That aural background was somehow appropriate for the man that moved toward her with sinuous grace and cold, black, flat eyes. He walked within a few feet of her and stopped, staring down at her. At first somewhat frightened, Zhanna felt herself growing angry. The trembling and obvious fear that rolled off Petra fanned the flames of anger higher within the young woman. Determined not to lose her temper at this point, she held the emotion firmly under her control, picturing it as a weapon that she stuffed inside of a mental chest before closing the lid.
“THIS IS THE ONE THAT IS CAUSING ALL OF THE CHATTER? SHE IS NOTHING BUT A BABE AND A STUPID ONE AT THAT!”
Zhanna felt movement to her side and could sense that Ilya had moved forward to partially shield her. She could see his shoulder out of the corner of her left eye, but all of her attention was focused on this man in front of her. This rude, overbearing, bullying entity that apparently didn’t care who he hurt!
“My Lord Lenc, this behavior is not within the agreed-upon bounds. This young Witch is under…”
“DO NOT THINK TO ADMONISH ME! JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE AN UNREASONABLE FONDNESS FOR THE WRINKLED AND ANCIENT SEER WILL NOT EXCUSE YOU FROM MY JUDGEMENT!”
Still shaking like a leaf, Petra stood up and placed her body between this man that she feared so badly and Zhanna. In a voice trembling but determined, the Guardian stated, “Petra protect girl. Lenc supposed to be judge but not following laws. Not right!”
With a snarl of disgusted rage, the man reached an impossibly fast hand out and grab the Guardian by her shirt and threw her to the side. Petra was thrown headfirst into a wall that appeared only long enough to harm her, disappearing as her unconscious form fell to the ground.
What followed next was a confusion of actions and sounds that, even years later, Zhanna could not split apart.
With an imp
ossibly enormous roar, Dascha instantaneously went from a small black cat to her warrior form. The sabertooth cat that now stood between her Witch and the bullying man was huge. The cat crouched down and prepared for battle, but the posture was of a soldier willing to sell her life for that which she protected, not one that would tell the watcher that the struggle was between equals.
Zhanna heard Ilya yell in a resounding voice, “Mazza! We need you now!”
The motion and the sounds of yelling seemed distant to the young Witch. Part of her mind noticed that she was also frightened, but that part was tucked over into the mental corner next to the chest holding her anger. Zhanna saw Dascha’s defensive positioning, heard Ilya’s yell for assistance, but the loop that played and replayed in her brain was the sound of Petra hitting the wall, the limp body falling to the ground, and the supercilious look on the man’s face.
Bubbling under her feet, Zhanna could feel the ground tremble as her anger coalesced. Desperately holding that chest closed in her mind, the young Witch barely managed to keep her fury contained. She looked the dark-haired man in the eyes and asked, “Why? Why have you done this? You pulled me away from where I was. You’ve attacked people. You are trying to bully all of us. Why!?”
“I never agreed to allow the travesty of this plan to go forward. You are supposed to have died. It was a fit judgment on you, and you escaped it. You must have cheated.”
Zhanna’s voice got even quieter. The shaking in the ground grew, and she could feel the tension along her body reaching new heights of the struggle between control and desired action.
“Why should you care? And why would you try to kill me? Passing judgment on someone you don’t know anything about or the circumstances is just unreasonable. Have you lost your sense of honor? Are you trying to judge but instead of being fair and impartial, are you inflamed with a preconceived notion of what is right or laden with personal hubris?
