Nightlord: Shadows (109 page)

Bob was doing very well. His right hand was complete and he was feeding himself as quickly as he could force it down. His left hand still had a couple of knuckles’ worth of fingers to go. That, combined with the existing spells on him to encourage healing and growth, should have him in perfect shape again in another couple of days. I felt that was good enough for government work, so I had T’yl help outfit him in some appropriate armor and weapons—I’ve got quite a bit of elf-work stuff just lying around for some reason.

When T’yl showed him into the main hall, I was tying off a well-wrapped magic mirror so it wouldn’t bounce against Bronze’s side at a gallop. I already had a spell on it to cushion it against impacts, just in case. As I finished, I noted that Bob seemed very pale and more than a little frightened. I wondered what T’yl had done. Then, when I reached down from my seat on Bronze’s back, to help swing Bob up behind me, he actually blanched and stepped back. He looked terrified.

I looked at T’yl.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“Me?” he asked, surprised. “I did nothing to justify his horror.” I gave him my Disbelieving Look and turned my attention to Bob again.

“What is it?” I asked. “I’m just taking you back to Vathula.”

“Anything you wish,
Na’irethed zarad’na
,” he said, voice shaking. He was sweating. He made no move to approach.

“T’yl?” I asked. “Are you sure you didn’t do something?”

“I am innocent, Sire.” He grinned at me. “Bob seems not to appreciate what a gift you have given me.”

“Gift? Oh, the elf-body. I think I get it.” I turned to Bob. “Does the presence of a human soul in an elf body bother you, Bob?”

He nodded, apparently unable to speak. He seemed unreasonably terrified. I didn’t want Bob terrified; I just wanted him to be a loyal vassal lord over a region I didn’t want to deal with. Respectful, yes. Obedient, yes. Innovative, creative, and helpful, yes. Pants-wettingly terrified, no.

“Okay, Bob. Calm down. Take a couple of deep breaths. Maybe you can explain why this seems to be such an awful thing. Can you tell me what happens to an elf when he dies? Do you have souls? All I know for sure is that you’re delicious.”

Not the most tactful thing I’ve ever said.

Bob did his best to explain that elves don’t have an afterlife, as such. It took a while, but I was in no hurry. When an elf died, the spirit that moved them—the thing they used for a soul—disintegrated. It washed away in the magical fields of the world, dissolving in the great life-ocean, never to return. Calling back a dead elf had been tried, too, in the process of creating a new elf.

Apparently, elves
make
other elves; they don’t reproduce in the same way other living things do. Bob claims that elves were created by something called the
heru
. These
heru
were a race of beings born from the primal forces before the world, and were responsible for its creation. Rendu, the greatest of the
heru
(naturally) created the elves as the most perfect creature in the world. What he didn’t do was give them the capacity to create more of themselves. Why would he? They were “perfect,” right?

Later, there was some sort of argument or conflict among the
heru.
They went away, or dissolved, or did whatever it is that ancient gods do to explain why they aren’t around. During this thing, men were brought to the world by another of the
heru,
one called Maddarrah. That’s when elves needed to reproduce and increase their numbers. Without Rendu to make more, they had to learn to create elves through their own arts—as Bob described it, their “feeble copies of the Great Art of Rendu.”

They figured out a way, all right. They would kidnap a freshly-pregnant woman, work their magic on her unborn child until it was ready—a matter of seven years or so!—and then cut the elf-baby free. It only worked one time in ten or so, but that didn’t stop them trying.

I decided I liked elves even less. I tried not to show it. But what he said rang a bell. I had heard of Maddarrah, and the elves I’ve eaten pretty much agreed with his story.

The fact that I could eat an elf-spirit didn’t bother him too much; it was just to be expected that a life-drinking horror could drink any life. The fact I could then put a human soul into the unoccupied flesh bothered him a great deal.

The elven perspective was of a total unity of flesh and spirit; the two were inseparable and indivisible, united throughout eternity or until they were destroyed together. Having a human soul inside an elf body was as horrifying to him as waking up to the rotting corpse of a loved one trying to cook breakfast for you. They’re in there, but they’re the rotting dead and bits are landing in your bacon.

Maybe it’s the cultural differences. Maybe it’s the fact I had my Dark Lord hat on. Maybe I’m just inured to the idea of death, dying, the soul, and various forms of afterlife. Whatever the reason, I found I wasn’t too terribly moved to sympathy for the poor elf.

“Thank you. I’m sure T’yl appreciates the lesson as much as I do. Get on the horse. We’re leaving. Now.”

Bob visibly forced himself to take the hand of the Thing that demanded it. The Thing hefted and swung him up onto the back of the Thing’s magical horse. Bob didn’t want to put his arms around the Thing, and the Thing allowed him to hang on to the Thing’s belt. I’m such an understanding Thing.

Shortly thereafter, we went up the pass and approached the gate. No one gave us any trouble. They shone lights down at us, of course, but they didn’t bother to call out a challenge. Once they actually saw us, the thuds and clanks of the gate opening process began. It was a very nice gate, brand new.

Bronze strutted through the streets of Vathula. The place seemed very quiet. There was a strong smell of decay in the air, and I asked Bob about it.

“By now, if your mercy has been granted, there are a thousand dead,
Na’irethed zarad’na
. They are doubtless the source.”

“If there are any survivors of that curse, let them live; they can serve as examples of what it means to defy me.”

“As you command, so shall it be,
Na’irethed zarad’na .
”

Bob was obviously feeling very formal. Usually, he just settled on “Dread Lord” and left it at that.

I rode into the palace and the throne room, dropped him off on the steps to the throne. Several dozen unpleasant faces watched from the doors, but didn’t quite dare to go in.

“Get another chair,” I told him. “Set it lower and to the right of the throne. That’s yours, as my regent in this place. Let no one but me sit on the true throne of Vathula.”

“As you command, so shall it be,
Na’irethed zarad’na ,
” he repeated. Well, maybe he would become a little less terrified of me when I was farther away. I cut the cords on the mirror and lowered it to him.

“Put that in a safe place. It will contact another mirror just like it in the capitol. Another of my servants is always ready to answer the mirrors, so you may reach me whenever you find it needful.”

Bob went to both knees, one hand supporting the wrapped mirror. He repeated his new catchphrase again.

Bronze and I left without another word. Bob used to be a better conversationalist.

My talks with Drannis, Palays, and Rogis convinced me that Drannis and Rogis were fairly reasonable people. They agreed they had no real reason to be ill-disposed toward Mochara and would even welcome the opportunity for trade, except for the current difficulties with Byrne. Drannis, especially, seemed more than willing to be an ally to the Kingdom of Karvalen, especially if it got his daughters home.

Palays, on the other hand, really didn’t want to talk to me a lot. He was brusque and cold. I wasn’t sure what he was upset about. Maybe he was upset about multiple failed invasions. Maybe he didn’t like Sparky’s religion. Maybe he didn’t appreciate my part in destabilizing the Church of Light and Rethven. Maybe he just didn’t like nightlords. Pick any of the above or invent your own.

Unfortunately, while I might be able to recover Drannis’ daughters, that wouldn’t help Rogis. And if Byrne pressed south, Rogis’ military problem would rapidly become Drannis’ problem, hostages or no hostages.

Byrne was a problem for them, and therefore, a problem for me. Of course, Byrne was the logical culprit for the bungled assassination attempts, too. It gave us a common enemy. That’s always a help when trying to make friends.

What did Prince Parrin have against me? If I asked nicely, would he tell me? Sure, it was unlikely that I could just fix it, whatever it was, but it would be nice to know. I’d much rather undercut his desire to fight than take an army into the field and watch men get slaughtered. I’m just a wuss, I know.

I consulted with Tort, my Grand High Everything. Her spies didn’t have a good answer, but she promised to look into it.

At her mention of looking into it, I thought of crystal balls and Anni. The magical arts of the seers of the
gata
are different than the scrying arts of magicians, even different from the Ribbon of wizards. It was more like one of those odd talents that people developed, like smiths singing to metal or the dancers of the People of the Plains. I don’t understand how they do what they do, but it couldn’t hurt to ask her to look into it. Anni agreed, but also cautioned me.

“It’s not an easy thing, you know, to look into the hearts of men. I’ll see what there is to see, but I don’t know him. If I see anything at all, it will still be murky and dark. You may have to see for yourself.”

“Young lady,” I said, which made her smile, “you know very well that I’m not nearly so artful as you.”

“No, but you’re the one toward whom his hatred flows. I stand on the side of the stream and watch it go by; you can wade in its depths and take the measure of the current.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t know how.”

“If I cannot find what you want,” she said, softly, “I will show you how.” Her voice dropped lower. “I am the eldest of my
gata
; it is mine to decide.
But, if I must, I want something from you.”

“What would you have?”

“No, let us not speak of it. It may not come to that. Run along, old man; I’ll tend to your wants.”

“As you say, young lady.”

I finally ran out of excuses after lunch. Torvil made it a point to bring me lunch in the conference room, where I was working on the sand table. He also brought Kammen and Seldar with him.

“Sire.”

“Torvil. What’s on your mind?”

“You say you have a warrior spirit in a crystal. We would like to be the first to be taught by it.”

“’We’? Or you, and they are coming along?”

Torvil turned pinkish, but didn’t answer. Kammen did.

“Sire. He says it’s dangerous, or that you think it might be. He’s willing to give it a go, and I’ll be dead a week before I let him do something dangerous without me.”

“I agree with Kammen,” Seldar said, “although, perhaps not about being dead for a week.”

“I see,” I said. Well, someone had to try it, and I’d be right there with them…

“Come with me.”

I found T’yl and brought him along. After I explained the general outline of what I’d done, I explained what would happen.

“We’re going to go into the crystal, much like a wizard visiting a mental study. Time will seem to run much faster there; how much faster, I have no idea. The crystal is really a sophisticated quantum computer core and may have a processing speed greater than…” I trailed off at their blank looks. “It’s a very powerful magical crystal and may cause time to go much faster in there than in a typical mental study.” They got that.

“Inside, there’s a warrior spirit that I’ve created, forging it out of all the knowledge and experience I’ve gained from hundreds of thousands of souls. We’ll work with it in there, learning from it. Then, in between lessons with this teacher-spirit, we’ll practice what we’ve learned. Questions?” Torvil held up a hand.

“Sire, why is this dangerous? In what way?”

“There are several ways I can think of where it could go horribly wrong. It could dump too much information into your head and burn out your mind. It could affect your motor skills—that is, your coordination, and so cause you to die in twitching convulsions. It could copy itself into your heads and destroy who you are, making your body the host for a copy of the warrior spirit. Should I go on?”

“No, thank you.”

“Anyone want to not do this?” I asked. Kammen and Seldar raised their hands. I sighed and rephrased my question. “Is anyone not going to do this?” They lowered their hands again.

“Right,” I said. “Everyone pick a table. Lie down on it, head toward the crystal.” While we did that, T’yl walked around the whole thing, looking it over.

“My lord? What do you wish me to do?”

“Observe us closely. If we start to… well, if we start to react badly, tell Firebrand. It will tell me.”

Is that why I’m here, Boss?

No. You’re here because I don’t want to let you out of arms’ reach. You were gone for too long.

I missed you, too, Boss.

I am going to let T’yl hold you, though; you’re no good for this job if you come inside with us. I do want you to listen in on everyone while we’re inside and see if you can detect anything that might be considered damaging. Work with T’yl on this, would you?

Makes sense. I don’t like it, but at least T’yl isn’t going to go thinking he can actually use me for hacking at anything—nothing annoys me more than being wielded by an incompetent.

So, you’ll do it?

Sure, Boss.

“Here.” I unbuckled Firebrand and passed it over. T’yl greeted it and they exchanged a few pleasantries.

“Everybody ready?”

“Yes,” said Torvil.

“Yes,” said Kammen.

“No, but go ahead,” Seldar said.

I activated the enchantments on the tables and we went into the crystal dojo. It was a very nice place; it ought to be. I spent enough time designing it. My composite warrior-spirit greeted us with great courtesy, quizzed us for a couple of hours on what we hoped to achieve and why, and then invited us to join him on the mat.

It is possible I made my virtual training simulator a trifle too real. On the other hand, if it doesn’t hurt, you don’t react as you should. I guess I did it right. Painfully right.

We didn’t eat; we didn’t sleep; we didn’t feel the need. We did nothing at all that wasn’t fighting or related to fighting. There was a startling amount of philosophy involved, most of which seemed a mixture of Zen awareness and Arthurian chivalry. They actually went together surprisingly well.

After some unmeasured time—a week? Two weeks? It was a long time to spend in a high-pressure learning environment, anyway—I felt that psychic tickle that meant someone was trying to reach me. Knowing that could only mean one thing, I bowed to the teacher, as did the other students, and we were dismissed. We exited by the same door we entered.

I sat up with a headache. Torvil, Kammen, and Seldar stayed where they were and groaned. Well, my brain has more practice at directly absorbing knowledge. It goes with my vampiric digestion.

Boss?

Yeah. I have a headache.

I figured. T’yl says the other guys were starting to struggle, so I tried to let you know.

Good work.

Aloud, I asked T’yl how we did.

“You were in communication with the crystal for several moments,” he said. “The effects were immediately noticeable, but not too serious. After a very short time, however, the mortals began to suffer a low-level degradation in their
urushti
… ah, that is, one of the aspects of their living being.” He shrugged. “I have a spell that will let me look at a soul, but it does me no good if I don’t know what I am looking for. Magicians look for several qualities in potential magicians, and the
urushti
is one of them. Theirs was becoming overtaxed.”

Urushti.
Yes, I recognized the word. It might be best described as the temperature tolerance of a computer core. You can overclock the core to make it run much faster, but that makes it hotter, too; that maximum tolerable temperature would be the
urushti
. The
urushti
of a person was the spiritual equivalent. A person’s spirit could be forced to do more, do it faster, and do it more strongly than it normally should, but its ability to be pushed beyond its normal limits would be measured as the strength of the
urushti.

Of course magicians would look for candidates that had a strong
urushti
.

“So, how long were we in there?” I asked.

“Moments. A hundred heartbeats, perhaps.”

Torvil groaned again. I glanced over at him.

“Problem?”

“No, Sire. I just… now we have to practice all that again.”

“You’re the one who wanted to try out the prototype.”

“Yes, Sire.”

I got up and stretched. Could I put a timer on it so lessons ended in, say, one-third as long? Make it one-quarter. Thirty seconds, maybe? That might work. We would see how my three coped, first. If there were no side effects, then we could see about regular virtual lessons for all the knights and maybe the squires. It might even be part of the basic training package for the army, when I got around to having one. Possibly even for the senior city guards and the militia.

On the other hand, I still had a headache. I saw how the three were leaning on each other and reached a decision.

“Day off,” I told them. “You got a lot done just now.”

They didn’t argue about it. They didn’t even try. That’s how I know they were beat.

As long as I was doing things with a massive time differential, I decided on a trip through the gate again. There were a number of things I could deal with in a very brief time, that way.

Covering Bronze in a magic-concentrating field was one of the things I wanted to test. I doubted I could cast such a thing on the other side—at least, I doubted I could cast one that large, or that effective—but if I put it on her here, it might help her feel better over there.

T’yl helped me with it. He seemed quite impressed that I added a subroutine to tell the spell to follow the surface of an object. I let him be impressed. It’s actually more efficient to make it a sphere, maximizing the volume inside so that it can store more magic. On the other hand, increasing the surface area of the Ascension… well, Field, I suppose… should mean that it intercepts more magic, even if the interior space isn’t as large. One is appropriate for a high-magic environment, the other is better for a low-magic environment. Maybe. They both have their good points and bad points.

With Bronze prepared, we opened the gate and I was back in the library. I also fell flat on my face and writhed on the floor. Stabbing pains wracked me and it felt as though I’d just been hit by a one-two combination of concrete floor and steel ceiling.

It passed after what must have been forever—three seconds, maybe.

I became aware of Bronze nuzzling me and Firebrand asking,
Boss? Boss? Can you hear me? Are you okay?

“That,” I said, slowly sitting up, “is a stupid question.” I patted Bronze’s nose and climbed to my feet.

Yeah… I guess it is
, Firebrand admitted.
Are you okay
now
?

“I think so. Yes. Dead, but fine. I’ve just… I think I stepped from a sunlit time zone to a nighttime time zone. I’ve never gone through a full transformation in three seconds before.”

Sounds awful. Looked awful.

Bronze nodded, still worried.

“Felt awful, too,” I agreed, “but I’m all right, now. Let’s see about getting out of this library and finding another one. We’ve got magical tests to run on Bronze and some computer crystals to find.”

What’s a computer?

“Remember that crystal with the warrior spirit?”

Sure.

“That crystal was the heart of a computer.”

Then we’ll kill the computers and take their hearts!

I’ve missed Firebrand.

Bronze munched on carnivorous vines while I tried to figure out what time it was. The sky was overcast, which wasn’t good; dawn might be ten hours away, or one. I brought a leather body bag, just in case, but I wanted a better idea of what to expect.

While Bronze grazed, I got out the chalk. My spells might not have a lot of punch behind them, here, but they could still be useful. I started with a cleaning spell—the slow version that basically used my own movement to scrub me clean. Call me what you will, I don’t like being covered in my own filth.

Since I still had time, I then worked on a visor spell; this one would simply put a field over the open eyes of my helmet. That area would shift the higher frequencies of electromagnetic radiation down into the visible range. I put more than one layer on so I could get different slices of the spectrum—radio, microwave, ultraviolet, and x-ray. I figured that would give me a good sample of stellar radiations and I could, hopefully, identify things like the North Star and some of the other constellations even through the clouds.