High Sorcery (22 page)

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Authors: Andre Norton

BOOK: High Sorcery
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“Let us go!” Now that she had miraculously (or so it seemed to her) succeeded, Tamisan was even more uneasy, wanting nothing to spoil their escape.

They found their way back to the corridor before the hatch while the ship still slept Starrex knelt by Kas and then looked with astonishment at Tamisan. “But this is the teal Kas!”

“It is Kas, real enough,” she agreed. “And there is a reason for that. But need we discuss it now? If the Over-queen's men come to take this ship—I tell you her greeting to us may be worse than any you have met here. I remember enough of the Tamisan who is the Mouth of Olava to know that”

He nodded. “Can you break dream now?”

She looked around her a little wildly.
Concentration—
no,
somehow I can not think so clearly.
It was as if the exultation the fumes of that scented air had awakened in her was draining. With that sapping went what she needed most.

“I—I fear not.”

“It is simple then.” He stopped again to examine the tangle cords. “We shall have to go to where you can.” She saw him set the laser on its lowest beam and burn through the cords which united Kas to the crewman, though he did not free his cousin from the rest of his bonds.

But what if we march out of the hatch into a waiting party of the Over-queen's guards?
They had the tangler,
the laser, and perhaps the half-smile of fortune on their side. They would have to risk it.

Tamisan opened the inner door of the pressure chamber. The dead men lay there as they had fallen, and fighting nausea, she dragged one aside to make room for Starrex, who carried Kas over his shoulder, moving slowly under that burden. There was a fold of cloak wrapped about the prisoner to prevent any contact between the cords and Star-rex's own flesh. The outer hatch was open.

A blast of icy rain, with the added bite of the wind which drove it, struck violently at them. It had been dawn when Tamisan had entered the ship, but outside now the day was no lighter; the torches had been extinguished. Tamisan could see no lights, as, shielding her eyes against the wind and rain, she tried to make out the line of guards.

Perhaps the severe weather bad driven them all away. She was sure no one waited at the foot of the ramp, unless they were under the fins of the ship, sheltering there. That chance they would have to take. She said as much and Starrex nodded.

“Where do we go?”

“Anywhere away from the city. Give me but a little shelter and time ...”

“Vernier's Hand over us and we can do it,” he returned. “Here, take this!”

He kicked an object across the metal plates of the deck and she saw it was one of the lasers used by the crewmen. She picked it up in one hand, the tangler in the other. Burdened as he was by Kas, Starrex could not lead the way. She must now play in real life such an action role as she had many times dreamed. But this held no amusement, only a wish to scuttle quickly into any form of safety wind and rain would allow her.

The ramp being at a steep angle, she feared slipping on it, and had to belt the tangler, hold on grimly with one hand and moving much more slowly than her fast-beating heart demanded. She was anxious that Starrex in turn might lose footing and slam Into her, carrying them both to disaster.

The strength of the storm was such that it was a battle to gain step after step even though she reached the ground without mishap. Tamisan was not sure in which direction she must go to avoid the castle and the city. Her memory seemed befuddled by the storm and she could only guess.
Also, she was afraid of losing contact with Starrex, for, as slowly as she went, he dragged even more behind.

Then she stumbled against an upright stake, and putting out her hand, fumbled along it enough to know that this was one of the rain quenched torches. It heartened her a little to learn that they had reached the barrier and that no guards stood there. Perhaps the storm was a lifesaver for the three of them.

Tamisan lingered, waiting for Starrex to catch up. Now he caught at the torch, steadying himself as if he needed that support

His voice came in wind-deadened gusts; it was labored. “I may have in this Hawarel a good body, but I am not a heavy-duty android. We must find your shelter before I prove that”

There was a dark shadow to her left, it could be a coppice. Even trees or tall brush could give them some measure of relief.

“Over there.” She pointed, but did not know if, in this gloom, he could see.

“Yes.” He straightened a little under the burden of Kas and staggered in the direction of the shadow.

They had to beat their way into the vegetation. Tamisan, having two arms free, broke the path for Starrex. She might have used the laser to cut, but the ever-present fear that they might need the charges for future protection kept her from a waste of their slender resources.

At last, at the cost of branch-whipped and thorn-ripped weals in their flesh, they came into a space which was a little more open. Starrex allowed his burden to fall to the ground.

“Can you break dream now?” He squatted down beside Kas, as she dropped to sit panting near him.

“I can—”

But she got no farther. There was a sound which cut through even the tumult of the storm, and that part of them which was allied to this world knew it for what it was, the warning of a hunt. Since they
were
able to hear it, they must be the hunted.

“The Itter hounds!” He put their peril into words.

“And they run for us!” Mouth of Olava or not, when the Itter hounds coursed on one's track there was no defense, for they could not be controlled once they were loosed to chase.

“We can fight them.”

“Do not be too sure of that,” he answered. “We have the lasers, weapons not of this world. The weapon which put the ship's crew to sleep did not vanquish us; so might an off-world weapon react the other way here.”

“But Kas—” she thought she had found a weak point in his reasoning, much as she wanted to believe be had guessed rightly.

“Kas is in his own form, which is perhaps more akin to the crewmen now than to us. And, by the way, how is it that he is?”

She kept her tale terse, but told him of her dream within a dream and how she had found Kas. She heard him laugh. “I was right then in thinking my dear cousin might well be at the center of this web. However, now he is as completely enmeshed as the rest of us. As a fellow victim, he may be more cooperative.”

“Entirely so, my noble lord.” The voice out of the dark between them was composed.

“You are awake then, cousin. Well, we would be even more awake. There is a struggle here in progress between two sets of enemies who are both willing to make us a third. We had better travel swiftly elsewhere if we would save our skins. What of it, Tamisan?”

“I must have time.”

“What I can do to buy it for you, I will.” That carried the force of a sworn oath. “If the lasers act outside the laws of this world, it may be that they can even stop the liter hounds. But get to it!”

She had no proper conductor, nothing but her will and the need. Putting out her hands she touched the bare, wet flesh of Starrex's shoulder, but was more cautious in seeking a hold on Kas, lest she encounter one of the tangle cords, Then she exerted her full will and looked far in, not out.

It was no use; her craft failed her. There was a momentary sensation of suspension between two worlds. Then she was back in the dark brush where the growing walls did not hold off the rain.

“I cannot break the dream. There is no energy machine to step up the power.” But she did not add that perhaps she might have done it for herself alone.

Kas laughed then. “It would seem my sealer still works in spite of all your meddling, Tamisan. I fear, my noble lord, you will have to prove the effectiveness of your weapons after all. Though you might set me free and give me arms, necessity making allies of us after all.”

“Tamisan!” Starrex's voice was one to bring her out of the dull anguish of her failure. “This dream—remember, it may not be a usual dream after all. Could another world door be opened?”

“Which world?” At that moment her memories of reading and viewing tapes were a whirl in her head. The voiceless call of the Itter hounds to which
this
Tamisan was attuned made her whole body cringe and shiver and addled her thinking even more.

“Which world? Any one—think, girl, think! Take a single change, if you must, but think!”

“I cannot. The hounds—aheeee—they come—they come! We are meat for the fangs of those who course the dark runnels under moonless skies. We are lost.” The Tamisan who dreamed slipped into the Mouth of Olava, and the Mouth of Olava vanished in turn, and she was only a naked, defenseless tiling crouching under the shadow of a death against which she could raise no shield, She was—

Her head rocked, the flesh of her cheeks stung as she swayed from the slaps dealt her by Starrex.

“You are a dreamer!” His voice was imperative. “Dream now then as you have never dreamed before, for there is that in you which can do this, if you will it”

It was like the action of that strange-scented air in the ship; her will was reborn, her mind steadied. Tamisan the dreamer pushed out that other, weak Tamisan.
But what world? A point—give me but a decision point in history!

“Yaaaah—” the cry from Starrex's throat was not now meant to arouse her. Perhaps it was the battle challenge of Hawarel.

There was a pallid snout about which hung a dreadful sickening phosphorescence, thrust through the screen of brush. She sensed rather than saw Starrex fire the laser at it

A
decision—water beating in on me. Wind rising as if to claw us out of the poor refuge to be easy meat for the hunter. Drowning—sea—sea—the Sea Kings of Nath!

Feverishly she seized upon that. She knew little of the Sea Kings who had once held the lace of islands east of Ty-Kry. They had threatened Ty-Kry itself so long ago that that war was legend, not true history. And they had been tricked, their king and his war chiefs taken by treachery.

The Ill Cup of Nath. Tamisan forced herself to remember, to hold on that. And, with her choice made, again her mind steadied. She threw out her hands, once more touching
Starrex and Kas, though she did not choose the latter, her hand went without her conscious bidding as if he must be included or all would fail.

The Ill Cup of Nath—this time it would not be drunk!

Tamisan opened her eyes.
Tamisan—no—I am Tam-sin!
She sat up and looked about her. Soft coverings of pale green fell away from her bare body. And, inspecting that same body, she saw that her skin was no longer warmly brown; instead it was a pearl white. What she sat within was a bed fashioned in the form of a great shell, the other half of it arching overhead to form a canopy.

Also, she was not alone. Cautiously she turned somewhat to survey her sleeping companion. His head was a little hidden from her so that she could see only a curve of shoulder as pale as her own and hair curled in a tight-fitting cap, the red-brown shade of storm-tossed seaweed.

Very warily, she put out a finger tip, touched it to his hunched shoulder, and knew! He sighed and began to roll over toward her. Tamisan smiled and clasped her arms under her small, high breasts.

She was Tam-sin, and this was Kilwar, who had been Starrex and Hawarel, but was now Lord of LockNer of the Nearer Sea. But there had been a thirdl Her smile faded as memory sharpened.
Kas!
Anxiously she looked about the room, its nacre-coated walls, its pale green hangings, all familiar to Tam-sin.

There was no Kas, which did not mean that he might not be lurking somewhere about, a disruptive factor if his nature held true.

A warm arm swung up about her waist Startled, she looked down into sea-green eyes, eyes which knew her and which also knew that other Tamisan. Below those very knowledgable eyes, lips smiled.

His voice was familiar and yet strange, “I think that this is going to be a very interesting dream, my Tam-sin.”

She allowed herself to be drawn down beside him. Perhaps, no, surely he was right.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1970 by Andre Norton

ISBN: 978-1-4976-5627-7

This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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