Vrin: Ten Mortal Gods (7 page)

“I will emphasize I do
not
want it known I am here. I am trusting you will keep this in confidence.”

“You can count on me, lord.”

“Go then. I will wait.” I tapped him on the shoulder, attaching a thread. He quickly departed and I brought up the web to keep an ear on him. He did what he said he would and soon returned with another man.

“This is Randal. He can help you.”

The man wore a fine blue suit. White curly hair covered most of his burly face. He reminded me of Santa Claus. I uncovered my eyes.

“Follow me please,” he said gruffly.

I followed him down an endless string of hallways until the man slowed to a stop. As he opened the heavy door to the council chamber I quickly scanned the interior. Around a large granite table in the center of the room were twelve men in business suits. The table formed a symmetrical dodecagon. A man sat before each flat edge. Papers littered the table.

Randal spoke in a lowered voice. “One moment, I will get him for you.”

Sajin was on the far side of the table apparently in a heated debate with the man next to him. As Randal spoke in his ear he looked up quickly, then excused himself. I couldn't help noticing how tired he looked. This was no great surprise, he was a man with a lot on his mind.

“Greetings, Lord Tardin.” He spoke quietly. “What an unexpected surprise. Why do you come in such secrecy?”

I looked at Randal. “Thank you. You may go.” I reached out and shook his hand and deposited two rather large diamonds. His eyes widened. “I trust you will keep our meeting
secret,”
I said, looking him in the eye. “And make sure the other man receives his share.”

He led me to a chamber and as he opened the door the scent of strawberries wafted out. Inside many candles were burning. A fire crackled in the fireplace. In the center of the room, a cloaked figure sat poring over a thick brown book.

I looked at Sajin, slightly annoyed. “I said I want to go somewhere
private.”

He gave me a puzzled look. “This is private, lord.”

I squinted at him. “Then who is
that?
” I pointed to the slumped figure.

“Again, I find I must apologize. I did not wish to state what I thought you already knew. His name is Charm. He is our sky searcher. Last night he was found here, frozen in that position.” He looked toward the figure. “I do not believe he can hear us. We may speak freely.”

I did not respond to Sajin but moved toward the silent shadowy form. Completely motionless. Frozen above a thick leather book. The man’s dark features appeared distorted in the flickering firelight. His expression was one of total astonishment, as though he had uncovered something of great importance. My heart skipped a beat as a haunting realization took hold of me. “What book is this?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice even.

“That is the sacred tome, lord.”

I looked up. “What is it
called?”
I asked shortly.

“I’m fine,” I replied through clenched teeth. “I am-- merely experiencing-- entrance fluctuations.”
Entrance fluctuations? That was a pitiful excuse.
Gradually my head cleared and I took a long hard look at the figure in the chair. Who
was
this man? Why had he frozen in place the night I arrived? And
more
importantly, what did that
book
have to do with it? I needed to know more but didn’t want to let my guard down in front of Sajin. “Sajin, what is your understanding of Davata Notrals?”

He furrowed his brows. “It is a gift.”

“Is that all you have to say about it?”

He thought a moment. “I understand it is alien to our world and that its text is ever changing.” His eyes took on a distant look. “It speaks of lands which do not exist and of great men who have no history in Vrin. It has puzzled our scholars for centuries. They have sought after an answer to the singular God depicted within it. This God is referred to as the God of All, perhaps inaccurately, by our sky searchers.” He gave a slight pause, perhaps hoping I would step in with some universal truth. He appeared disappointed and continued. “We have used it as a guide to living a pure life and have utilized its principles in the development of our world’s government. Although we have seen the stories of the people in it change, the message of the law does not. It is this law which has kept Vrin at peace for centuries, that is, until the gods returned.” He stopped abruptly. “I beg your pardon for my frankness.”

“You speak the truth. I will not hold that against you.” I looked him in the eye. “You’re right. War has returned to Vrin and for that I am sorry. But you have to understand, not all the gods wish it. I can’t change what Rath has done, it is tragic and criminal. But a new threat has surfaced which is far more menacing...” Again I wondered how much I should disclose.

“We do not know much at this point. We’re not sure what his intentions are, but we can’t allow him to follow through with the threat. We need your help.”

Sajin looked doubtful. “I can bring
her
to you, but I cannot guarantee she will cooperate; she is a refugee of the war. Before the war, she stayed with Lord Humphrey for a time because her father died in his service.”

Sajin again appeared puzzled by my lack of knowledge. He furrowed his brow and began. “Humphrey was always too stubborn to use his power for even the smallest pleasure or necessity. So every time he went into town the people gave him a hard time because he wouldn't bless their community with treasures. Humphrey swore he would not use the power and was not willing to make any exceptions. He had decided to move on but that’s when he met Janod, Thana’s father.” Sajin hesitated. “Is this what you wanted to hear?”

“Yes. Go on,” I said, eager to learn as much as I could.

“Janod was a local businessman and fairly well to do. He approached Humphrey with a proposition. His only request was that the old god bless his daughters with a touch. In return he would bring supplies directly to Humphrey's cabin. Humphrey informed the man that his touch would not do the children any good, but that did not matter to Janod; he believed in his heart that it would protect them.

“And so it was. For four years Janod brought fresh supplies, and often Humphrey invited him to sit and talk. The children would come out and play near the river and over time a bond developed between Humphrey and Janod’s family.

“But then one day Thana came in the place of her father. She told Humphrey her father was ill. Humphrey went with her to see him. He was indeed very ill and the local healer said there was a good chance he would not survive. Humphrey sat with him for several days providing what comfort he could but it was not enough, and on the sixth day, Janod died. Janod’s wife knew Humphrey’s convictions yet she could not bring herself to forgive him. So she packed up her belongings, and her children, and moved away. After a time Thana returned to let Humphrey know that she was not angry with him. Like her father she believed Humphrey was a good man and she understood his convictions. He invited her to stay as long as she wished; he missed the company of her family very much. She stayed for a short time but soon left to go back to her mother and sister.”

Sajin stopped and furrowed his brow. “But when she reached home, she found both of them dead.”

“Dead?”

“Yes. Because of the war between Rath and Armadon.” Sajin shook his head. “And now she is the leader of the resistance group called SCAR. I believe you remember Dirm. He is one of them.”

I let out a small laugh. “It’s hard to forget a guy who points a crossbow at your head.”

Sajin gave an apologetic smile. “So I realize Thana is unstable, but I know of no one else who could lead you there. Given the circumstances she would be foolish not to help.”

The town square was bustling with merchants and peasants. Anything and everything was for sale and barter was alive and well. Sajin was unsure how long he would be but I told him not to worry, I would amuse myself.

The alleyway in which I found myself was filthy, but I paid no attention; I was engrossed in my conjuring. The fragile blue threads glowed around me, filling the air with a web of blue. I waved my hands through them and the strands became brighter. The power created by my thoughts spoke to the threads in a language which communicated need and imagery. From thought came energy, and from energy, substance.

I pictured a balloon in my mind and with a subtle shifting of perception the web responded to the thought. The threads filled the air with their ghost-like essence and at once began to bend and form to the shape of my desire. A solid frame appeared before me, balloon-like, but empty inside. I knew as soon as I added texture to the glowing frame the balloon would become real. I willed the balloon shape toward me. It responded.

My intention was to test the theory behind the threads. First was a test for substance. I made the balloon solid rock and it fell hard into my hands. It had the look of a bright red balloon but was heavy and solid with a rough stone surface. I studied it for a moment before stripping the texture, returning it to a hollow wire frame.

Next I turned it into an actual balloon. It was much lighter and the surface appeared smooth and shiny. I let it go and tried to keep it afloat with my mind. It did not respond. Apparently once the texture was applied it reacted to the laws of physics governing this world. I thought back to the magic carpet. How did it work? Perhaps in order for an object to have magical qualities it needed to be created with special material which would react to thought energy.

I started from scratch and applied a new texture to the balloon frame, a material that was an approximation of what I thought flying carpet threads would look like. It was ugly but would it function? When I let the balloon go it floated awkwardly. When I willed it to move, it did. Quite pleased with myself I moved on to the next test.

I wanted to know about an object’s inner space, whether it was solid or hollow, after the outer material was added. I stripped away the magical texture of the balloon and brought the wire frame back to my hands.
How about a balloon apple?
I mused. The texture became red and glossy and its weight seemed correct for an apple of its size. I lifted it to my mouth and took a bite. It was sweet and juicy.

I examined the reaction of the threads to my physical influence. New threads formed to make up the shape of the bite mark and a new texture appeared, simulating the apple’s interior. Carefully I turned the apple around and stripped away the skin opposite the bite mark. I peeked inside. Nothing but darkness. The apple was hollow. Without the threads glowing on the surface the large balloon apple
looked
real but I now knew, that it was not. It seemed this entire world was made up of material being simulated by an unknown source. It gave me chills to think about it.
Hollow apples.

I continued fiddling with the threads and time went by. Then something very odd happened. A thread passed by very close to my face and suddenly I was aware of something. Something was
inside
the thread! I pulled it closer and examined it.
Amazing!
Inside its dark center, so tiny and easily missed, something was moving. I squeezed the thread between my fingers and it flattened. I looked closer but still could not make out what it was. I needed to stretch it to increase its surface area. But
how?
I visualized the thread becoming flatter and thicker and with much reluctance it reacted to my desire. I pulled at its sides until it was finally wide enough for me to make out the object of my interest. My jaw dropped. It wasn’t possible! It
just wasn’t possible!

A hand touched my shoulder. Quickly I willed the threads to vanish and blinked up at the two figures standing above me. Slowly I got to my feet, gathering myself on the way up. “That was fast,” I said, brushing the dirt from my pants.

“I did not mean to startle you.” Sajin looked at my hands and down to where I had been crouching. “What were you looking at?”

“Nothing.” I offered no further explanation. Apparently he could not see the web. “You must be Thana,” I said, offering my hand to the young woman at Sajin's side.