by S E Meliers
‘What are you doing, then?’ Praise demanded. ‘If the future is so changeable, your actions are even more… dangerous. With your foresight, trying to interpret and change what is to come is like trying to use a berserker as an assassin. You know he is going to kill people, but in his blood rage you cannot hope to direct him to a specific target.’
Calico sighed. ‘In the story,’ she reprimanded Praise with her eyes. ‘This particular Prophet sees several futures. All futures except one lead to death and destruction, so the Prophet sets about small changes to eliminate all the possibilities except the one. For example, she may see that a necromancer dying leads to the death of someone who needs to be alive because that someone living changes the decisions of someone else, and so she arranges for that necromancer to live. But it is not so simple, because for the necromancer to live, a red dragon needs to find a mate, and for the dragon to find his mate, a young red haired woman needs to make a decision about whether to meekly go to be a EAeryian God’s virgin, or to run away.’
‘Did you have anything to do with my decision?’ Praise was horrified.
Calico regarded her. ‘I am not omnipotent. That decision was your own. But, until you made it, the future we are currently living was just a possibility. Once you made it, suddenly a whole new line of possibilities opened up before me. Because you ran away, I was able to give the red dragon a mate, and through you influence him not to kill the necromancer. The future is a slippery thing; I hope you are beginning to grasp that. Your dragon,’ she nodded to Ember, ‘is already fully cognisant of this fact. Dragons have long studied Prophesy.’
‘But we have never been so bold as to try to influence the future to run a certain course,’ he replied.
‘No,’ the Prophet smiled. ‘That is something the Monadistic Priests specialise in.’
‘How so?’ Praise asked. ‘I have heard reference before to the Monadistic Prophets.’
‘The Monadistic Priests gather children from all over Shoethal, and sometimes from beyond when they can get away with it,’ the Prophet’s eyes were sad. ‘The children are sometimes given… sometimes taken. These children are trained in five ways. Some are trained as servants or soldiers, some are trained as Hallows, and some as Priests. A fifth group are said to be taken to be trained as Prophets. This fifth group are never seen again. It is said that the Prophets are kept in the deepest dungeon chamber of the Monad’s greatest temple, in perpetual darkness. There is rumour that they are maimed and disfigured, so they are unable to escape, and unable to focus on anything beyond the possible futures that they see. I do not know; I do not see them in my visions. We only know of Monadistic Prophets from rumours muttered in the quietest whispers between the highest ranking Monadistic Priests.’
‘That is horrible,’ Praise put her hand over her belly.
‘Yes,’ Calico’s eyes were distant. ‘Very much so.’
‘Why presume you are qualified to decide a future for us all?’ Ember demanded interrupting the moment of shared melancholy.
Calico blinked. ‘I was asked that same question not so very long ago by a Monadistic Priest,’ she said, amused.
‘And what did you tell the Priest?’
She shook her head. ‘Lies and half-truths,’ she smirked. ‘What one should always tell a Priest because it is all they will give you in return. But, I will answer you true, Ember Dragon. I am not qualified. But I had to ask myself a question, long before I began this path; is a person who does nothing to prevent a terrible thing from occurring as guilty as those who perpetrate it? My answer was: yes. Thus, qualified or no, I have since tried to lead us to the future I see that contains the least death and destruction, even though the path itself is slick with blood.’
‘So what does the statue of a long forgotten god have to do with this future?’ Praise asked quietly.
‘Ah, that is where the story begins,’ Calico took a sip from her glass. ‘Long ago there was a Queen, her name is long forgotten, but the legend goes that she possessed a marvellous crown. This crown was said to accentuate her own powers to incredible extent, so much so that when her people became imperilled on their home world, she enabled them to travel through the stars to our world and here build a thriving new culture.
‘The time came when the Queen wished to pass the responsibilities of ruling on to the next generation and seek loftier pursuits, and she used the powers of the crown to see into the future. What she saw, she did not impart on anyone, but she left her castle and disappeared for a very long time. When she returned, she did not have the crown with her. She divided her people amongst her children, scattering them over the many islands of this world, and all she would say about her crown was that the future required it to be separated and scattered, only to be reassembled when in a future time it would be most needed.’
‘I have heard this tale,’ Ember was displeased. ‘A story by which to settle dragonets to sleep.’
‘Maybe so,’ Calico smiled with great gentleness. ‘But as with many stories, it has its origin in truth.’
‘Truly?’ Praise was sceptical. ‘A crown which enabled a people to travel through the stars?’
‘A crown of mysterious metal unlike any we have on this world, set with six stones,’ Calico held her gaze. ‘Round stones, crystal stones containing hearts of fire.’
Praise’s hand fluttered to her neck, to the torque encircling it. ‘Opals?’
Calico shook her head. ‘Alike, but not the same,’ she said.
‘Magic opal,’ the dragon raised an eyebrow. ‘How did you come by your pretty bauble, my love?’
‘I bought it from a vendor in Amori,’ Praise replied, then frowned at Calico. ‘Did I not?’
‘You did,’ Calico confirmed with a slight smile. ‘But I may have placed it there for you to buy,’ she admitted. ‘Where better to hide a legendary and magical stone than around a dragon-mate’s neck? Any mage sensing its magic would believe it to be dragon-cast and would not look into it any further, dragons being as… fiercely defensive of their mysteries as they are.’
‘And within the statue?’ Ember’s mouth was a grim line, ‘another the same?’
‘Yes,’ Calico nodded.
‘You put my mate in danger,’ he was not pleased, ‘by having her wear this stone.’
‘How so?’ Calico challenged. ‘None see it as anything but a pretty bauble. It is in the safest place, on her neck, and she is safe under your wing, is she not, Ember Dragon?’ her gaze was challenging.
He was mollified. ‘Yes, Praise is safe with me,’ he agreed. ‘And now I know what she wears, I will be more vigilant.’
‘Where is the statue?’ Calico asked quietly.
‘Safe,’ Ember met her gaze. ‘I will break it open and affix the stone with its companion, about Praise’s neck where it will be safer still.’
‘Thank you,’ Calico nodded her assent.
‘I gather that the future you are seeing is disclosing the locations of the pieces of this crown?’
‘Yes,’ Calico finished her juice. ‘Certain decisions disclose the stones. The first was my own decision to intervene in the future. Suddenly a new future opened up, and I saw a statue in a small temple, in a snow-bound land of the Lupine. I went there and stole the statue myself, and breaking it open, found the stone that Praise currently wears. That was it, for the longest time, until you took Praise as mate, and suddenly I saw the temple high in the mountains. More recently, I see a crown. I do not yet know where or how to obtain it, but I see it.’
‘Fascinating,’ Ember’s eyes glowed. ‘And who do you see wearing the crown?’ he asked.
Calico worried her bottom lip with her teeth. ‘It is unclear at this time. I see it upon many heads, some I recognise, some I do not. The Shoethalian Prince, Cinder, is one. His brother, Cedar, another. The Lord Charity, the Lady Patience, and others. I do not know which head is the head that needs to wear the crown in order for the best possible future to occur, I only hope that that becomes clearer as time progr
esses.’
‘You wish our aid in this?’ Ember examined the Prophet intently. ‘You have made liberal with it so far, perhaps you should ask forthrightly for what you have been taking through manipulation of my mate.’
‘Manipulation of your mate,’ Calico laughed wryly. ‘I wish it were so simple. She is wily, your mate. Yes, Ember Dragon, this is not a task I can achieve on my own. I would have your help with this.’
‘And we will give it,’ Ember consented. ‘But with conditions.’
‘Conditions, of course,’ Calico shook her head. ‘You are a good pairing. What are your conditions?’
‘I will not have my mate or dragonet endangered. You will disclose everything you see, or we will withdraw our aid. If at any stage we believe your intentions to be ignoble, we will withdraw our aid.’
Calico met his gaze. ‘I agree to your conditions.’
‘Good,’ he stood and helped Praise to her feet. ‘We wish to show you something.’
‘Very well,’ Calico was bemused.
‘You are unhappy,’ Praise frowned. ‘Why so? You are getting everything you wanted are you not?’
‘Well, yes, and I am pleased,’ Calico admitted, and hesitated before explaining: ‘I have not seen this; I have not seen you expecting me, and I have not seen this conversation. I am blind, and it discomforts me.’
‘I am not surprised,’ Ember shrugged as they weaved through busy shoppers. ‘We have not made decisions which would lead to you seeing futures relating to this conversation, we were awaiting your explanation.’
‘How was it you expected me?’ Calico asked.
‘In truth we did not,’ Praise smiled. ‘Or not for sure. Once we obtained the statue, given that we had no plans to leave here and that all other times you had come to me, we thought you would come. We asked to be told if anyone matching your description arrived, and received word only shortly before you came to us. We ordered for three on the chance that you would immediately seek us.’
‘Clever,’ Calico was amused. ‘And where do we go now?’
‘To see a recently discovered wonder,’ Ember explained as they reached the end of the great hall. ‘That reminded us greatly of the temple whence the stone was kept, and one which, with your explanation, seems increasingly relevant.’
‘I am greatly intrigued,’ Calico admitted as he opened the door and lead them in to the darkened chamber. He lit the viscous fluid with a dragon word of magic that crackled through the air, and the fire roared around the room, setting shadow to dancing across the mosaic.
Calico recoiled, throwing an arm over her eyes and staggering out of the room.
‘That was not the reaction I was expecting,’ Praise looked after her in wonder.
‘No,’ Ember was disconcerted and intrigued. They followed the Prophet from the room. She leaned against the wall, trembling. ‘Are you unwell?’ he asked of her.
‘Yes,’ Calico moaned, pressing her head against the cold stone wall. ‘That is not art; that is future and past and present. That chamber is an anomaly in time. It is… not of this world. The Dwarves have dug too deep, and have disclosed something that should only be seen by the eyes of Gods. My eyes,’ she raised her face to them. Her cheeks were alabaster pale, and her eyes wept blood. ‘I swear – had I been there a moment longer, I would be blinded. How is it that you are unaffected?’
‘We are not alone – the chamber is often viewed by the Dveygar,’ Ember said softly. ‘It is interesting that you are so affected.’
‘It is,’ Calico wiped her eyes. ‘I am intrigued by what you see in there, as I am unable to look.’
‘Perhaps we could get an artist to draw the walls for you,’ Praise suggested. ‘Then you could see?’
Calico regarded her with approval. ‘You are surprisingly clever,’ she said.
‘That is a rather backhanded compliment,’ Praise retorted.
‘That chamber should never have been unearthed,’ Calico murmured ignoring Praise’s ire, ‘but as it is, I must know what it contains; it could change everything…’
‘We will hire an artist,’ Ember decided.
‘Yes, and soon,’ Calico grimaced. ‘I cannot linger here long – much is afoot in Rhyndel at this time.’
Gallant
For a moment, Gallant looked up at the bed hangings and could not place how he had come to be there. The room was his, the bed hangings were familiar, but he had no memory of going to bed. He tried to sit up, and found that he could not move his arms or legs. A quick glance ascertained why: he was bound, spread-eagled, and naked upon his own bed with something stuffed in his mouth muffling his cry of outrage. Next to him reclined the heathen wanderer harlot, Prairie.
‘Come now,’ she propped herself up on an elbow, cushioning her head on the palm on her hand. ‘That is not a very nice way to think of me – of anyone, really.’ Her pose was relaxed, and there was something very intimate about the way she was tucked up against his side. His very naked side. She giggled and tweaked his nipple. ‘Yes, you are very naked.’
He tried to focus, to remember the methods of blocking a mind reader from his thoughts, and she tweaked his nipple harder. ‘You do not want to do that,’ she said. ‘There are ways for me to break through shields of that sort, and you really do not want to experience that occurring. The only people who can really effectively block a mind reader are other mind readers, or the most truly powerful of mages. My talent serves a purpose, too, as it means you and I can have a little discussion which is long overdue, without the interruption your cries for help would surely bring.’
He glared at her with his one good eye and focussed all his attention on one coherent thought: ‘I will kill you, you misbegotten trollop. I will rip your skin from your flesh and devour it as you watch.’
‘Promises, promises,’ she flicked his abused nipple with her nail. She moved suddenly, swinging a leg over him, so she sat astride his hips, trapping his cock between them. ‘You have not wondered why I have you tied up,’ she said to him conversationally.
He considered her. He remembered entering his room now; finding her seated upon his bed and opening his mouth to abuse her for her failure to kill Spider. She had lifted a small reed tube to her lips and something had flown from it biting him on the neck. ‘That is right,’ she said, stroking her small hands down his chest. She had callouses on her index and middle fingers from archery, they caught and made his hair whisper as she threaded her fingers through it. ‘The dart was dipped in a little potion I have – mostly, I use it if I happen across a bear – it has a very swift effect and has saved my life on numerous occasions. I figured, if it can put a grumpy old bear to sleep, why not a foul mouthed priest? It was really very effective.’ She preened a little in self-appreciation.
Mad, he thought, she is entirely mad.
She laughed. ‘No. Well… maybe a little,’ she amended biting her bottom lip as she regarded him. Her long plait fell over her shoulder. ‘It’s supposedly not uncommon amongst mind-readers. Listening to other people’s thoughts can get quite overwhelming at times,’ she shifted her weight upon him. He felt a stirring in his body in response to her movement against his cock, and repressed it viciously. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Interesting,’ she murmured. ‘Do you know why you are bound to your bed, naked and gagged, Gallant?’ she asked him softly.
‘You are a fvccanting useless mad whore who could not shoot a horse if it stood an arm length away,’ he thought viciously. ‘How the fvccant would I know what your reasons are for anything?’
Something flickered in the shadows of her eyes. ‘I have listened to many, many minds. I cannot help it, really,’ she said, her fingers combing a lock of his hair that fell over his neck. ‘And maybe it has driven me a little crazy,’ she smiled wryly. ‘Because, after all, here we are. Yes, I did not kill the Hallow as you wanted. I was instructed not to do so, so technically, my aim was perfect, but…’ she shrugged in response to a thought he did not quite get time to pull into cohesion. ‘The Prophets reas
ons are her own, I do not know why she does what she does. Her mind is one of the very few minds whose barriers I cannot penetrate unless she wants me to, and then I hear only what she wishes to share. It is actually quite peaceful,’ she answered a second observation he did not quite have. ‘And that is one of the reasons I stay with her.’
Her fingers smoothed over his forehead. He closed his eye instinctually and turned his face a little to protect it, anticipating pain that did not come. When his eye opened, she was gazing at him with an expression of sadness and pity.
‘Do not pity me you hag-faced slattern,’ he roared in his mind and against the gag in his mouth. He bucked his hips seeking to dislodge her, but she rode him out, until he slumped back against the bed. ‘Fvccanting whore,’ he snarled in his mind and pictured all the things he would do to her when he caught up with her, tearing the nails from her fingers as Cinder had had done to Honesty, breaking the delicate bones in her arms, tearing her hair from her head, and renting her fine, freckled skin with metal claws. He imagined her screams, using the myriad of memories he had of other women screaming.
‘Shhh,’ she whispered. ‘Stop it, you are just torturing yourself.’ She smoothed her hand down his damaged cheek gently. ‘Do you know why I have tied you to your bed, Gallant?’ she asked her hand travelling down his neck and across his chest until it rested just below his navel.
‘To satisfy some debased urge?’ he thought vindictively, his body all too aware of where her hand lay. He imagined her with a lewd and animalistic expression on her face, slack jawed, and pawing at herself and hoped she could pick the image vividly from his mind.
