Karilyne- Heart Cold as Ice

by Van Allen Plexico

  It rankled me to behave in such a manner when my every instinct was to take on my enemies directly, and I knew Mirana must be feeling something similar. But we followed his instructions, trusting that he understood our current situation better than we did.

  We took up positions behind a row of wheeled cargo carriers that had been parked off to the right side of the hall, and we waited.

  Seconds later footsteps echoed from the far end. They grew louder, and then around one of the nearby concrete planters came two individuals in brightly-colored metallic uniforms. I recognized what they were immediately. Humans, one male and one female, both tall and lean and well-muscled. The man had very dark skin and a bald head, while the woman was fair and her blonde hair was held in a ponytail. I searched my memories and found their designations: a Blackbird and a Canary.

  Hands of the Machine. Not top officer rank, but Hands nonetheless. Mortals, but pushed to the peak of their physical and mental limits. And therefore extremely dangerous. Even the gods knew the reputations of the warriors in service to the Machine, and we afforded them proper respect.

  The thought of hiding myself away from mere mortals—even impressive mortals such as these—galled me. Was I not Karilyne, the Ice Queen of the Golden City? Stealth has never been my forte. Always I charge in where others fear to tread. How could I simply hide myself away from these two, like some timid mouse?

  But my powers were admittedly at a low ebb, for reasons still mysterious to me. And my axe—my beloved, cosmically-powered axe—had been taken from me. I was consequently at that moment as weak as I had been in many centuries.

  Even so, I argued with myself, we were doing nothing wrong. Hands would have no reason to engage with us, to attempt to detain us. Why not make our presence known to them? Perhaps they could even be of assistance to us.

  No. I put the thought aside. After all, the Hands were notoriously unpredictable in their behavior, particularly when confronted with the unexpected. Dealing with them could delay us considerably, if they found us worthy of further investigation. And, given our motley crew, they most assuredly would.

  Plus, Davos himself, who knew this place and its denizens best of all of us, had wanted us to conceal ourselves from them. I deferred to his views on it.

  And so we remained hidden, and I hoped that the two Hands were not actively scanning for intruders using infrared or other means, because I did not want to have to fight them, and I certainly did not wish to kill them. Not if such a thing could be avoided.

  “...always thought this would be a great location to be posted,” the man was saying as they drew even with us. “But so far it’s been disappointing.”

  “It isn’t exactly the exotic locale some of the others have described,” the woman replied. “A Falcon once told me the best food in the galaxy could be found in this place, but so far I haven’t found any indication of…”

  The Hands continued on past our place of concealment, never looking our way, eventually passing out of earshot. Once they had vanished entirely through the doors on the end we had come from, we all stood and emerged from our concealment.

  “I trust you had your reasons for avoiding them,” I said to the big gray alien who was our guide.

  “The very best,” he replied. “If you trust their kind, you do not know them.”

  I had questions, of course, but did not wish to interrupt our journey to press for more information. I shrugged and motioned for him to continue, and we set off again.

  On and on we walked, until my feet grew sore and my legs tired. After more seemingly endless hours of weaving our way through throngs of locals, we passed out of an apparently massive building and along another of the narrow skywalks, this one more sparsely occupied. From there we came upon two big, square doors of steel and glass, which led us at last into a very spacious open atrium. It was easily the largest chamber we had yet encountered. The ceiling, made of broad, hexagonal, transparent panels, hovered some hundred meters above our heads, while the set of doors at the far side of the room lay more than twice that distance away. The floor was tiled in copper-colored squares and the entire area was filled with overflowing floral displays, pools and waterfalls. A semicircular amphitheater partially occupied the far side and water bubbled up from the center of and flowed over a dark granite mass at the center of a pool nearby. A rectangular box some four meters high, made all of glass or something like it stood off to our right. It was entirely transparent, about the size of a large elevator car and entirely empty. Businesses of some sort surrounded the room, apparently selling clothing, food and much more. But the entire area was vacant of people.

  I wasn’t the only one to notice that last part. “Where is everyone?” Lydia was asking.

  Davos shook his head. “I do not know. And I find cause for concern in that. We must be cautious.”

  The broad open space was unexpected and strange, compared to what we had seen thus far on our journeys. It had the look of some kind of shopping center or very expensive mall back on the human worlds I occasionally visited—albeit one that had been totally abandoned—and I had no idea what to make of it.

  Idly I wondered then: Were we actually on Earth now? We hadn’t begun our journey there or anywhere close to it. And yet, clearly the Mosaic City incorporated many places and many times, and all seemed to be parts of Earth cities. Did this conglomerated version exist on that world, too? Or were we in some other realm of time and space? We’d arrived by way of the Paths between dimensions and the cosmic river, so it was impossible for me to be certain. I wondered if even Mirana who had steered us here knew for sure.

  But it was great gray Davos who had led us here to the center of the Mosaic City. As the others filed through the doors and into the atrium on either side of me, I turned to our alien guide and gave him an inquisitive look.

  He was gazing up through the transparent ceiling at something. Bright sunlight streamed down at us from that direction so I shielded my eyes with my right hand and followed his line of sight.

  “There,” he said. “We have almost reached your destination.”

  I squinted and looked harder and realized with a start that it was right there on the other side of the glass: the Spire.

  “Though how you intend to go about getting inside,” he added, “I will admit I am most curious to learn.”

  TEN

  It was tremendous. A single column of black shot through with green and purple, seemingly carved from some kind of rock, it towered far up into the sky. Lightning or light effects sparkled and swirled about its upper reaches, where it disappeared into the clouds.

  “The Spire. The tower at the center of everything,” Mirana murmured, clearly in awe. “Never before have I had the opportunity to behold it.”

  Erin and Lydia, the two humans, stared up at it. Neither spoke.

  “The Spire is known to my people, as well,” Binari said. “Only the great Technologists of the Mosaic City and those in their thrall may enter it.”

  Erin and Lydia both frowned at this.

  “Technologists?” Lydia asked. “I thought those who command the Spire were supposed to be sorcerers—not that that makes any more sense to me.”

  “One person’s Technologist is another person’s sorcerer, I suppose,” Binari observed. “My people ascribe to technology many things that other races see as magical.” He spread his little hands. “Whatever abilities these supposed sorcerers possess, I am certain if we encounter them we will find a scientific basis for all they do.”

  “You will encounter them, if you seek to enter the Spire,” Davos growled. “As I warned you before.” He leaned his head back and stared up at the towering edifice that stood beyond the windows. “What they are—wizards, scientists, supernatural beings—depends on which part of the City they currently inhabit, and how those who dwell there perceive them. But one thing is certain: They will resist any efforts to pass within.”

  “We didn’t come all this way for nothing,” Lydia said, her ton
e defiant.

  “You have done well. Few have made it even this far,” Davos rumbled, still gazing up at the Spire. “Of course, without me leading you along the route I selected, you would not have come close.” After another moment he turned to me and grinned. “And now I look forward to learning your leader’s plan for getting you all inside.”

  “I have no plan,” I admitted, much to the shock of at least a couple of the others.

  “What?” Binari exclaimed.

  “Then why did we come all this way here?” Lydia asked, managing to hold her tone to a respectful level despite her evident astonishment.

  “I knew that an appropriate strategy would present itself once we arrived,” I stated. I looked at each of the others in turn. Only Mirana, who knew me best, appeared unsurprised. “And it will.”

  Davos was staring down at me, frowning. But then slowly his expression morphed into a smile. He nodded his head. “I like you more and more as I get to know you, goddess,” he stated.

  I didn’t care what he thought of me, frankly. If he had nothing further to contribute to our cause, then mentally I was already done with him. Hand on the hilt of my sheathed sword, I started forward across the broad atrium. “I trust the entrance to the tower is across the way there,” I said, nodding toward the far side. I didn’t look back to see if the others were following me. Those that I could rely upon would be with me. Those that were not with me, I was no longer interested in.

  As I neared the opposite side of the atrium I became aware of another set of gleaming metal doors set into the wall just ahead, though these lacked the glass panels of the previous set we’d just passed through. They looked bigger and heavier than any vault doors, and made for a formidable barrier if they were as substantial as they appeared.

  I stopped in my tracks, still some twenty meters from those doors, and turned back in the direction from which I’d come. Mirana, Binari and the two Templar women were all still with me, as I’d known they would be. Surprisingly, Davos had come along as well, and a part of me wondered why. I started to speak to them, but then the lights in the atrium switched over to a dark red tint and began to pulse, as though we were suddenly within the dark heart of a massive organism. The others froze, expressions reflecting their apprehension. I wondered what had happened. Had an alarm been tripped, somehow?

  We all looked around for signs of danger. One of the Templars cried out and I followed her gaze. High above, seen through the glass ceiling, lightning danced and cavorted about the upper reaches of the Spire, swirling all around it like a thing alive.

  I stood rock-solid and resolute as a glacier, but my eyes moved to Davos. He seemed to know this place better than any of us, and I hoped he could provide answers. The tall gray alien was frowning, though—frowning with what seemed very much like confusion and surprise—and I didn’t like that a bit.

  Sounds came from somewhere behind me and I turned back around, facing the big steel doors again. Then I leaned my head back and looked up.

  About thirty meters up the wall a sort of balcony or platform projected out into the atrium. A low silver railing surrounded it on all three sides. Standing there against the railing was a man in long, flowing robes and hood, the colors of which shifted constantly, cycling through red and blue and orange and green and purple and gold and back around again. He had a dark, pointed beard and his hands were held up and open above the railing, as if her were about to conduct an especially sinister orchestra.

  “I’m going to guess this is one of the famous sorcerers of the Spire,” I noted to Mirana.

  “I have never encountered one before,” she replied, her curved sword out and gripped tightly, “but he definitely matches the descriptions.”

  “No,” Davos was saying, as much to himself as to any of us. “This is wrong.”

  I looked at him questioningly.

  “He should not have detected our presence here,” the big gray man replied. “Unless…”

  “Unless what?” I demanded, moving closer to him, my sword out now too and held at the ready.

  “...Unless he knew we were coming,” Mirana finished for him.

  “Yes,” Davos said, nodding. “Unless someone warned him.”

  “Cevelar,” I guessed, and instantly knew it was likely true. Our adversary had once again beaten us to the prize—or at least contacted its guardian and warned him against our coming for it.

  Thunder rumbled inside the atrium and lightning flashed from atop the balcony, as though the sorcerer had set off a personal light show behind him.

  I craned my neck back, looked him over again and shouted up: “Hello. We seek access to the Spire. I assume you are one of its custodians. Will you allow us to enter?”

  The thunder sounded again, louder this time. Again the lightning flared overhead.

  “You are the one called Karilyne,” the sorcerer boomed in a voice clearly being amplified by artificial means. “My name is Garvael. The Spire is presently under my dominion. You will find no entry here. Go back.” And with that he gestured in the direction we had come.

  “We are on a mission of grave importance,” I called out. “There may be an object held within your tower that can prevent galactic catastrophe.”

  “Many objects of great importance are kept within the Spire. None of them are any concern of yours,” the sorcerer replied, and I could see his eyes blazing orange even from such a distance.

  Mirana leaned over and whispered a suggestion to me. I liked what she said and I nodded, then looked back up at the man in the color-shifting robes. “We do not seek to steal the object—we simply aim to take it into protective custody for a time. To keep it safe from those who would use its power for great ill. Perhaps you know of them—one Cevelar, of the Golden City, and a human called Vostok. They wish to pervert the power of the object, and I refuse to allow that to happen. We are willing to return the artifact to the Spire when the danger has passed.”

  “You will find no entry here,” Garvael repeated. “Go. This audience is finished.”

  He turned to exit the balcony.

  “Do not seek to provoke my wrath,” I called out, anger growing inside and providing a warm counterpoint to my usual cold. “You named me correctly—I am indeed Karilyne. Perhaps you were not informed as to what that name means. I am the Ice Queen of the Golden City. I will not be deterred!”

  With those words I raised my left hand and reached out, feeling for the Power and frustrated once again at its relative weakness compared to the raw, blazing energy I normally could access and channel. What little of it was available to me I grasped, drew into myself, shaped according to my Aspect, and redirected outward in the direction of the balcony.

  Garvael had stopped in his turning away and now looked down at us again. He appeared surprised as a thin layer of ice spread across the railing and icicles formed, hanging from the bottom. When he spoke again, his breath was visible as a white cloud.

  “I know of your tricks, Ice Queen,” he called back. “But you are no match for me here and now. I am well aware of your present limitations. You draw your reserves from the Fountain in the Golden City, many layers of reality away. You have doubtlessly discovered of late that your precious Power has been drastically reduced.”

  “What do you know of that?” I demanded. I was shocked at the idea that this mortal— regardless of his own abilities or status—might be better informed regarding the affairs of the gods than I was.

  “I know enough,” the sorcerer replied with a sneer. “I did indeed speak with the one called Cevelar, and he enlightened me as to a great many things. Including what has become of your once-mighty Fountain.”

  “And what is that?” I called up to him, an easy bravado in my voice. Underneath it, however, I desperately wished to know the answer—though I doubted I’d be hearing it from him.

  Indeed, the sorcerer’s next utterances did nothing to enlighten me as to the condition of the Fountain. Instead he spoke of his own resources: “I draw my energie
s from this very place, the hub of realities, by way of this Spire. It will provide me with far more power than required to defeat a very vulnerable goddess and her minions.”

  His laughter following those words only further enraged me. I couldn’t decide in that moment whether I was more anxious to interrogate this arrogant and presumptuous mortal for all he knew about the Fountain, or simply kill him where he stood, for his insolence.

  Before I could reply, however, he settled the matter once and for all. He gestured with both hands, hurling bright white balled lightning out in either direction. The bolts curved around as if sentient and self-guiding and struck the floor just ahead of us. Involuntarily we all stepped backwards a short distance. The smell of ozone burned in the air.

  Before I could respond to this attack, there came a grinding sound from those big double doors before us as they began to slide slowly open. The space beyond them was pitch-dark, and so I returned my glare to Garvael up above, looking for some way to assault him. But the balcony was easily too high for me to achieve in a leap.

  For a long moment none of us moved or spoke. Then, with the big doors nearly all the way open, Davos broke the silence. “We must fall back,” he said to me in urgent tones.

  “Why?” I demanded, my heated anger now nearly overflowing and belying my supposed icy demeanor. I nodded toward Garvael up above us. “I would have a settling of matters with this...creature.”

  “It is not the sorcerer that concerns me,” Davos said. “It is what will be coming through those doors.”