The Gossamer Plain (30 page)

Hafiz followed the cambion’s movement with his eyes, but his enlarged body was too slow to react. Vhok ran between the genie’s legs. He swung his sword as hard as he could and drew a long gash across the inside of Hafiz’s calf as he passed. Scalding hot blood the color of magma spewed out, burning Vhok, who became visible because of his attack. Ignoring the pain of the burning blood, the cambion kept going, facing toward the azer and their taskmaster.

With a roar, Hafiz turned and limped after him. The other efreet, who had been watching from behind the overseer uncertainly, could see their quarry once more. They chased after him, too.

Though Vhok was much quicker, the oversized genie’s strides covered more ground. Vhok realized that the overseer intended to stomp on him, if he could.

The half-fiend ran faster.

Vhok saw that the azer watched the approaching half-fiend and his pursuers with trepidation. Manacled and chained together, they could not move fast, but they turned and fled the onrushing genies as best they could. Tripping and scrambling, they left a gap near the wall where Vhok

and Zasian could make their stand.

The cambion could only hope it wouldn’t be his last.

Vhok reached the front of the line of wagons and looked around, seeking the priest. Zasian was nowhere to be found. Suddenly fearing that the Banite had tricked him into being a decoy so he could escape, Vhok stole a quick glance over his shoulder.

Hafiz, bleeding profusely from the wound Vhok inflicted, had lost ground. He still bore down on the half-fiend, and he held his falchion high, but several paces separated the two of them. The other genies lagged even farther behind.

Vhok saw an opportunity. He ran once again in the direction of the wall. When he neared it, he leaped high in the air. As he hit the wall, he kicked with both legs. Using all his strength, he powered himself up and over and back in the direction he had come. At the same time, he spun around to face his pursuers.

Hafiz was startled by the half-fiend’s sudden reversal of direction. He staggered to a stop as Vhok flashed toward his chest. The massive genie tried to move his falchion to defend himself, but he was too slow.

Vhok angled his sword at the efreeti’s chest and plunged the blade home.

Blood spurted everywhere, coating Vhok in its blazing heat. For a moment, the cambion clung to his weapon, fighting the agonizing pain of being doused with the fiery blood of the genie. Then Hafiz, staggering and bellowing, grabbed at Vhok with his fist. Vhok felt the genie’s crushing grip surround him. He let go of his blade to try to squirm free.

Hafiz stumbled down on one knee. His breath was rasping in his chest, and hot, glowing blood flowed freely down his torso. With a baleful glare, he held the cambion before himself.

“You worm,” he growled, weakening fast. “I will dash your head against the flood”

The overseer, swaying uncertainly, hoisted Vhok high overhead.

Vhok pushed against the powerful fingers that held him. “Any time now, Zasian,” he called out. His words came only as a strained grunt. Though he could feel Hafiz’s grip weakening, the power of that grasp was forcing the air from his lungs.

The efreeti wavered, then collapsed.

The oversized genie toppled to one side, his arm swinging downward. Vhok found himself rushing toward the hard stone floor, though no longer clenched tightly within the efreeti’s grip. The cambion wriggled out of the overseer’s fingers and went into a tumble as the massive hand hit the ground with a resounding thud.

The half-fiend rolled across the floor and came up on his feet, gasping for breath.

Hafiz lay motionless, molten blood spreading beneath him. His body returned to its normal size. The hilt of Vhok’s blade, still protruding from the overseer’s chest, became visible beneath the corpse.

The other efreet who had been pursuing Vhok, fully half a dozen, stood gathered around their leader, as still as their fallen overseer. They all shared expressions of shock and dismay.

Then, almost as one, they looked toward Vhok.

“You will die!” one of them said, and the cambion realized it was Amak. The sentry stepped forward and bent down to grasp Hafiz’s falchion, which had also returned to its regular dimensions. He rose and stalked toward Vhok. “I will slay you myself,” he snarled, and raised the weapon to attack.

Vhok reached for his scepter and discovered that it was

no longer strapped to his belt. Somewhere along the way, it had jostled loose. Scalded by igneous blood, his sword still jammed into Hafiz’s chest, he stood before the enraged genie, weaponless.

The cambion backed away from the efreeti. “Now would be a really good time to show up, Zasian,” the half-fiend muttered. He looked around for his companion, but the priest had vanished.

The other genies closed in, forming a semicircle around their prey.

As Aliisza became conscious, she realized she was floating in a gray void. This is different, she thought.

Before, for several days, perhaps, she had lingered in the moonlit garden with the magical fountain. Before, she hadn’t been certain whether she had slept or not. It had been hard for the alu to tell the difference between slumber and a mere absence of consciousness. All she could be certain of was that time had passed, and every time she became aware, she found herself in that oasis.

At least the visions had ceased. ‘

Aliisza spent considerable time reflecting upon the significance of the switch. Did I change something? she wondered. Did Tauran? Was that what he was looking for? For me to act? To defend, or protect?

Whatever the cause, she had welcomed the respite of returning to the garden. The visions had worn on her, made her more than weary. Her emotions had become raw. She felt things she had never known before. She wasn’t sure she liked that. A part of her still resisted the impulse to save, to protect. She didn’t want that responsibility, that weakness. She felt

exposure, vulnerability in such kindness and compassion.

She had mulled the implications of her imprisonment over and over. Each time, exhaustion had taken over before she could come to some conclusion. Eventually, she had vowed not to think about it anymore, at least not for a while. She had wanted merely to be. As an escape from those tormenting visions, she had welcomed the solitude of the garden. Even as she had settled down to rest, there had been an expectation of something, anticipation of an event, an occurrence. She had known she was waiting for Tauran. But she had been in no hurry for it to happen.

That had been before.

The gray void startled her. A change. What did it mean?

In the next instant, she was within her quarters, lying upon her bed. She hadn’t come there much during her captivity, preferring the sights, sounds, and sensations of the garden to her bedroom. She wondered why she had brought herself there instead.

Rising up in the bed, Aliisza realized she was naked. That hadn’t happened in quite some time, either. She looked about. Her clothes, her weapons, all of it lay draped over or resting against a nearby chair.

Something felt different. It… perturbed her.

Deciding to explore, the alu slipped out of bed and hurriedly dressed. Then she headed into the garden. It felt strange, different from the place she had grown used to.

At first, she assumed that Tauran had arrived, was sitting in the deeper shadows, waiting for her to regain consciousness. She peered about, staring into the recesses of the garden where the moonlight did not reach. The wind blew softly and made the chimes tinkle. The leaves of the trees fluttered in those breezes, their silvery color flashing like strange fireflies swarming amongst the branches.

There was no sign of the angel.

What is it, then? Aliisza pondered, searching her own awareness. What is different?

When she finally figured it out, the realization hit her hard. She was real. She existed. It wasn’t merely a dream state, some out-of-body consciousness she felt.

She was flesh and blood again.

The thought made her stumble, nearly fall. Uncertain if she could trust her suspicions, she tested. She tried to dismiss the garden. Nothing. She willed her surroundings to change to daytime, for the sun to shine and the moon to vanish. The sky didn’t alter.

Everything felt different because it was different. Her mind was no longer creating the place; she actually stood in the middle of the real garden, no longer a prisoner within her own mind.

“It must feel strange, after all this time existing only as a spirit,” Tauran said.

Aliisza whirled to find him standing at the periphery of the garden, smiling.

“What happened?” she asked. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“You happened,” the angel replied. “You acted. You rushed to her aid. You took a stand,” he finished.

“I know,” Aliisza answered, “but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to feel that.” Disorientation flowed through her. Her real body felt things again, things she had forgotten about. Aches, unsteady balance, an emptiness in the pit of her stomach. She had to make sense of it. “It’s dangerous, caring for others. You leave yourself open to… to pain,” she finished. The words sounded foolish in her ears.

“Yes,” Tauran said, and his voice was gentle, consoling. “It is hard to care for others, to lend them aid, to offer them

solace and guidance. Because you give something of yourself in the process. And you fear that it will come back to injure you if you let it.” The angel walked to Aliisza, took her hands in his. “You wall up your feelings because of fear. Fear of that pain. Everything we do in life, we do out of fear. Fear of betrayal—fear of pain.”

“Fear of death,” the alu finished.

“Yes,” the deva said, growing excited. “Exactly. You fear all those things, yet you believe you can overcome them, if only you never let anyone get close to you, never get close to anyone. You think you can control those fears by protecting yourself from them. But the truth is, we are all powerless. In the end, those fears materialize despite our efforts.”

“Then why bother living at all?” Aliisza asked, desperate. She did not want to feel those emotions. They terrified her. “How does making myself vulnerable change anything? It only makes it worse!”

“Ah, it would seem to from the outside looking in,” Tauran answered. “But you know differently now. Don’t you?”

“No,” Aliisza said, trying to mean it. But she didn’t. “I don’t want to care!” she protested, knowing her words were false.

She did care. She cared about Lizel, admired the girl’s courage, determination even in the face of so much adversity. She envied the young woman’s convictions. Most of all, she craved the bond that girl would have with her child. Aliisza wanted that. She wanted to love her son.

Aliisza wanted her son to love her in return.

“Ask anyone,” Tauran said as the alu’s thoughts came full circle. “Anyone who has ever loved and lost will tell you it’s still worth it. Despite the pain, the vulnerability, the joy that comes with caring cannot be diminished. In truth, you cannot have one without the other.”

“It’s still selfish,” Aliisza said, sagging to the ground at the deva’s feet. It was too much. “You still pursue it to please yourself.”

“Of course,” Tauran replied, settling beside her. “I serve Tyr for the sense of satisfaction I feel. You wish for your son to love you because you want the good feelings it brings. No one who looks openly and honestly inside themselves could claim otherwise.”

“Then how is that better than serving yourself?” the half-fiend demanded, tears welling up in her eyes. “How can you mark one as good and the other, evil? I see no difference.”

“Yes, you do,” the angel said. “You know you do.”

Aliisza tried to shake her head, tried to tell her counterpart that it was all the same, but she knew otherwise. In goodness, there was boon for all.

And in that moment, in that instant when she finally grasped how wonderful kindness and compassion could be, how it built and reverberated among all living things instead of destroying them, she felt ashamed. Her entire life had been nothing more than an endless series of terrible acts, all designed to bring her satisfaction at the expense of others.

She leaned close to Tauran, reached out for him. The angel took her in his arms, hugged her close. She pressed herself against him and sobbed.

For a long time, they remained like that. Aliisza simply let the grief wash through her, scouring away all of her shame and guilt. The catharsis was profound, immediate. Somehow, the angel was drawing her taint from her, and she felt clean, new, alive for the first time. The energy Tauran gave off didn’t pain her anymore. It fed her, nourished her body and spirit together.

At last, they drew apart. Tauran peered into Aliisza’s eyes, as though searching for something there. She smiled at him,

a grin that grew. She knew it showed her affection for the angel, her appreciation for all that he had done to bring her to that moment.

“I am whole,” she said, and she reached up and caressed the deva’s cheek.

He was so beautiful, she realized. Not just physically, though there was that. No, his inner strength, his convictions shone from within. She would have envied that if she didn’t understand how he could share it with her. What she once would have wanted to wrest from him for her own use, she instead craved that he share with her. For in sharing it, it became even more bountiful, limitless.

“I have a surprise for you,” the angel said, standing. He reached down and pulled Aliisza to her feet. “It’s time.”

The alu looked at her friend, confused. “Time for what?” she asked.

“To meet him,” Tauran replied.

Aliisza’s heart leaped into her throat. Her son! It was time to meet her child.

“N-no,” she stammered, afraid. “I—I cannot.”

“Why?” Tauran asked, genuinely puzzled. “You want to love him, and he you.”

“Yes, but…” How could she explain it? she thought. How could she make sense of it herself? “I’m afraid,” she said at last, raising her arms helplessly.

“Of what?”

“That he will not love me,” she replied, and the tears welled up again. “That he will look upon his mother and know all the terrible things she has done, and he will turn away.”