Twist of the Blade (11 page)

She closed her eyes and listened for the cloud-song.

At first, just as before, she couldn’t find it – the
fortissimo
chorus of the lake at her feet overwhelmed the
pianissimo
music of those tiny drops of water suspended far above. It was like trying to hear the sound made by a single drop of water falling into a still pool above the roar of a waterfall.

But in the same way that the musical
plink
of a falling drop was so different from the deep thunder of the falls, she found that if she concentrated hard enough, she could distinguish the song of the clouds from the song of the lake, even when she stood on the lake’s frozen shore.

Of course she wasn’t really hearing songs at all: her awareness of the water came through a sixth sense, one she didn’t have a word for. But her brain
interpreted
it as sound, and she found that the more she concentrated on the faint, lilting soprano of the clouds, the less overwhelming the
basso profondo
growl of the lake became. The cloud-song high above called to her, urged her to join it...so she did.

She would have gasped with surprise, if she still had lungs. Her body vanished, yet she still sensed it: rushing up and out from where she had stood, growing broad as a house, tall as a skyscraper, yet insubstantial as...well, as a cloud. The ground fell away, the lake shrinking until it seemed no more than a pond surrounded by toy buildings. The air embraced her as she rose, holding her aloft in firm but incorporeal arms.

The sensation was completely different from when she dissolved into water. She never felt herself change size in water, even though her body and everything she wore or carried weren’t really there at all (she’d given up trying to figure out where they really
were
; in fact, she preferred not to think about it), even when she knew she was passing through pipes far too small to accommodate her. Now, though, she felt like a disembodied spirit floating high above the earth.

The sensation both exhilarated and terrified her. Every time she joined water she felt it calling to her, urging her to let her consciousness dissolve into it as her body did, to become one with it. Here in the clouds that deadly nihilistic urge was greater than ever. It took enormous effort to maintain her sense of self, to keep her mind intact. It would be so much easier to just join the cloud, to enter the endless cycle of evaporation and condensation...to leave behind the grief of her mother’s disappearance, the challenges of school, the hopeless quest for the shards of Excalibur...

Let them go
, the clouds seemed to say.
Turn your
memories to mist, your fear to fog...let longings evaporate,
sorrow dissolve, thoughts whisper into nothingness...
nothingness...

Pain stabbed her: a hard, sharp pain.
How can a cloud feel pain?
she thought. With that question, her sense of self solidified, and she felt a stab of terror as well as pain as she realized what had almost happened...and what had saved her. The shard wasn’t about to let
itself
dissolve into the clouds. It clung stubbornly to its existence, even though for the moment it was no more solid than she was, and she in turn now clung to it, coalescing her thoughts around it like an oyster forming a pearl around a grain of sand, layer by layer, until she could think clearly again.

The magic the Lady had bequeathed to her was many things, but “safe” was not one of them.

The cloud she had joined had drifted with her thoughts. She looked down at big-box stores like scattered building blocks and trucks, tiny as toys, on the Trans-Canada Highway on the eastern edge of town, then out at the vast, flat prairie beyond.

So. She could join the clouds. But drifting as slowly as a cloud would not get her to France. How fast
could
she travel? She and Wally had flashed along the waterways to the Northwest Territories in a matter of minutes, not hours.

Well, there was only one way to find out. She mentally held fast to the shard, looked east, and...pushed.

A flashing sense of movement, of fog and rain rushing past, a tumbling chaos of updrafts and downdrafts and...she pulled herself to a halt, and took stock.

Below her spread another city, far larger than Regina, a river winding through it. Atop a domed building like the Legislative Building on Wascana Lake, though smaller, she saw the golden statue of a nude boy.

Winnipeg
, she thought in wonder.
Hundreds of kilometres in a few seconds.

But could she return? She looked west, pictured Wascana Lake in her mind and once again...pushed.

It was harder moving in this direction, against the pre
vailing winds; but within moments she sensed the lake beneath her, pulled herself to a halt, and gazed once again at Regina...or what she could see of it: thick snow was now falling from all around her down to the city.
Did I do that? What
else
could I do using the clouds?

But those were questions and experiments for another day. For the moment, only one thing mattered.
I can get to France
, she thought with excitement.
I can get to the second shard!

The thrill lasted only as long as it took her to realize something else: She had no idea how to get down.

Think it through!
She mentally tugged at her nebulous extremities, and felt them start to rush back toward her. She stopped that instantly. So she could materialize right where she was if she wanted to. But since she would then plunge to her death, she
really
didn’t want to.

Reverse the leap from earth to cloud,
she told herself.
Do what you already know how to do: materialize in water deep enough to submerge you.

She rushed downward. The lake swelled, black water filling her vision...

With an explosion of spray she materialized right in front of two startled little girls feeding geese. The frightened birds lumbered away, honking as the water around them erupted.

Ariane staggered to the bank. “Fell in,” she said brightly to the little girls, who watched open-mouthed as she squished off, dripping.

Once she was out of sight behind some caragana bushes, she ordered the water off her body and clothes. The snow she had begun high above began to fall around her. She looked up at the clouds, awed all over again by the power of the Lady...and the power of Excalibur, whose fierce magic had saved her from her own folly.

I can do it
, she thought again.
I can get to Europe. I can get anywhere in the world the shards are located, as fast as or faster than Merlin. I can beat him!

She set off for home through the already failing flurry, excited to share her discovery with Wally.

But hard on the heels of her excitement arrived another thought.
Maybe you
shouldn’t
share this with Wally. Maybe you should just go. Grab the shard, bring it back. Don’t involve Wally. Don’t involve Aunt Phyllis. Keep them safe....

She stopped walking, heedless of her whereabouts. A cyclist shouted angrily and rang his bell as he zigzagged around her, but she hardly noticed. Head off to who-knew-where, all by herself, without even telling her best friend and her only relative? Not twenty minutes after she’d been telling herself how much she needed Wally? What was she thinking?
Of course
she would tell Wally. And Aunt Phyllis. “You have to start trusting me,” her aunt had said to her just that morning.

She would also have to tell Wally that she couldn’t take him with her. She knew it without even having tried it, just as she knew the limitations of her physical body. It took all her energy to hold herself up there against the force of gravity; she would have none to spare for Wally. She could no more lift him with her into the clouds than she could pick him up and throw him. But just because she might have to leave him behind didn’t mean she could just run off without even talking to him about it.

She gave her head a shake, wondering what had come over her, and resumed walking.
Was that the shard influencing my thoughts?
The shiver that ran through her had nothing to do with the cold.

~~~

At about the same time Ariane was splashing out of Wascana Lake, Rex Major, without taking his eyes away from the message that had just appeared on his computer screen, touched his Bluetooth earpiece. “Gwen,” he said, and a moment later, his secretary’s voice responded.

“Yes, Mr. Major?”

“I’m moving up the time frame for my trip to France. Please contact my pilot and have him file a flight plan to Lyon. I’d like to leave by –” he checked the clock “– 5 p.m. Also, please book a hotel for me in Lyon and arrange for a car and driver.”

There was a pause, slight, but enough to know he had just shocked his usually unflappable secretary. “Sir, your appointments next week? You’re meeting with the Department of Defence in Ottawa on Tuesday, and the Pentagon is expecting you in Washington on Wednesday –”

“I’ll be back by then,” Major said. “This will be a very quick trip.”

“Is this a personal or business trip, sir?” said Gwen, her voice betraying none of the curiosity she must be feeling.

“Both,” he said.
Business enough that the company can pay for the trip, anyway
, he thought. “There’s been a major discovery of ancient rock art in a cavern in the Ardèche. I’m considering donating funds for its preservation.”

Dead silence on the other end. Then, “Rock art, sir?”

Major laughed. “I’m glad I can still surprise you after all these years, Gwen. I wouldn’t want to be boring.”

“You’re never that, sir,” said Gwen. “Very well, Mr. Major, I’ll make the arrangements.”

“Thank you, Gwen.” He disconnected, but his smile didn’t fade. He’d thought he’d have to search for the shard when he arrived in France, which could have taken days or even weeks. But the computers had done the job for him. He knew precisely where the shard was. All he had to do was go and retrieve it.
It’s mine
, he thought fiercely. He pushed away the paperwork on his desk and rose to his feet. If he were leaving for France in a few hours, he had a lot to prepare.

~~~

Wally approached Ariane’s house with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The excitement came from the realization that the quest that had seemed to have ended when they returned from the Northwest Territories had begun anew; the apprehension came from the secret he now kept, of Merlin’s phone call to him in the hospital...and that, though he had hung up on the sorcerer, he hadn’t completely dismissed what Merlin had said.

Everybody has secrets
, Wally thought.
Ariane must have lots. It doesn’t mean I’m not on her side.

I’m just not sure the side she’s on is the right one.

He walked past the tipsy garden gnome at the base of the old spruce tree, and on impulse stopped and straightened the little ceramic figure before continuing up the walk to the front door. He rang the doorbell.

Aunt Phyllis answered. A huge smile lit her face, framed by upswept grey hair. “Wally! I’m so glad to see you. None the worse for wear, I hope?”

“I feel fine,” Wally said, which was the truth. The painkillers had done their job. He’d taken two more than the recommended daily dose, but he didn’t want to be distracted by a headache during their discussion of the second shard.
I’ll skip the bedtime pill to make up for it
, he thought.

Aunt Phyllis showed him into the dining room. Ariane grinned at him from her seat at the table. “I made ‘mustard-smeared protein’ again,” Aunt Phyllis said, and Wally grinned, remembering that was what Ariane called her aunt’s signature dish of meat or fish coated and roasted with grainy mustard and herbs. “But this time it’s trout, not pork. Grab a seat.”

Wally sat down opposite Ariane. He glanced at the door to the kitchen to make sure Aunt Phyllis was out of sight, then leaned forward and murmured, “Anything new?”

She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “Something big.” Her grin widened. “But I’ll tell you after dinner...and Aunt Phyllis too.”

“Tell me what?” said Aunt Phyllis, as she brought in a long silver tray covered with a domed lid.

“After dinner,” Ariane said firmly.

The trout was delicious, and the rice and edamame beans that went with it hit the spot as well. It was all a bit healthier than Wally was used to eating – his taste ran more to burgers and fries – but he had to admit it was good.

“How’s your sister, Wally?” Aunt Phyllis asked as they ate.

“Mrs. Carson says she’s doing okay.”

“I’ll bet she’s had lots of visitors,” Ariane said. “Starting with the rest of the ‘coven.’”

Aunt Phyllis frowned at her. “You know I don’t like you calling them that.”

“Sorry, Aunt Phyllis.”

“Actually, no,” Wally said. He picked up another edamame bean and popped the husk between his forefinger and thumb. “Mrs. Carson told me they haven’t been to see her at all. Flish said they won’t talk to her on the phone either. Apparently she’s very upset about it.”
He
sure wasn’t. Maybe if the coven broke up, Flish would leave Ariane alone. He squeezed the beans into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.
Maybe she’ll even move back home
, he thought, then frowned. He wasn’t sure that was an entirely happy notion.