Empire of the Saviours (Chronicles of/Cosmic Warlord 1) (45 page)

Stara stopped for a moment to watch. ‘That’s Papa fighting a dragon. The clanging is his hammer hitting the dragon’s metal scales. They fight like this all the time. Papa will win and the dragon will be scared for a while, but it doesn’t have a very good memory and will then want to fight him again as if he were a completely different person. Come on then!’

She ran off, her hair streaming behind her like a comet, and he had to run hard just to keep her in sight. She flitted across the stepping stones of a stream that was so clear its chuckling waters were almost ghostly. They then zigzagged down through a copse of trees, jumping their playful roots. And through a wild meadow of snaring brambles, sleep-filled blossoms and insects and small creatures playing hide and seek. The sun warmed and dazzled them.
How can this be winter?
he wondered.
This place is magical
.

There were standing stones at the end of the meadow, from behind which clouds of smoke were drifting. Snatches of voices came to him on the wind.

‘… not so easily persuaded …’ Was that Ash?

‘… listen to reason?’ He didn’t know who that was. ‘… think, Aspin?’

‘… sure … convinced myself, to be honest.’

Stara reached the stones, Jillan some seconds after. Stara didn’t even appear out of breath, but Jillan had to lean over with his hands on his knees. There was a long grassy drop straight ahead of him, and he suddenly felt so unsteady on his feet that he let his knees fold so that he could sit on the ground.

‘Oof!’ he puffed, taking in the incredible view over which they sat. The land rolled down and down like a swathe of tailor’s cloth, all the way to the distant shears of the horizon.

‘Here he is,’ Aspin said, with something like relief in his voice, and passed a long-stemmed pipe to a gnome of a man – whom Jillian took to be Bion – crouched on one of the stones, which lay flat and provided a perfect seat from which to take in the landscape.

‘Amazing, isn’t it, Jillan?’ Ash said dreamily as he followed Jillan’s gaze out over the land. The captivated woodsman accepted the pipe from the gnome and took a large draw, exhaling slowly.

Jillan waved the perfumed smoke out of his face and coughed. ‘Yes, nice hills.’

‘How are you, Stara?’ Bion breezed.

‘Hungry, of course.’

‘Of course. Here’s some honeycomb then. And you’ll find strawberries in the meadow there when you take Aspin and Ash back to the impatient Betha and Ausa. I bet they’re unhappy with me for stealing their suitors away, though it has been for but a handful of moments.’

‘Yes, I promised Betha I wouldn’t be long,’ a lazy-lidded Aspin mused, although he showed no sign of wanting to move immediately.

‘And Ausa said she might not remember me if I took too long,’ an entranced Ash mumbled, the pipe becoming loose in his hand.

Bion stretched a hand out and grabbed the pipe before it could fall. He clenched it between his teeth and clapped his hands smartly, making them all start a little. ‘Best be running along then. I’ll see you later. I need to have a talk with Jillan here. Stara, help them up.’

The girl pulled on Ash and Aspin until they got to their feet, and then they were stumbling after her. Aspin only remembered at the last moment to turn and give Jillan a clumsy wave. Then they disappeared beyond the stones.

The gnome’s face was gnarled and nobbled like wood, but was natural and characterful rather than ugly. He had a hunched back, long spatulate fingers and was dressed in leathers of unusually bright red and green. Jillan realised he was probably staring at the man.

‘Sorry,’ he said.

Creases appeared at the corners of Bion’s eyes as he scrunched his face into a smile. ‘Quite all right. Better to take a straight and honest look rather than steal a sly and sideways glance. So, you’re a wizard, are you?’

Had Ash and Aspin told Bion everything? ‘Not really.’

‘Oh. A pity. I was hoping to meet a fellow wizard. Can be lonely being the only wizard in a place.’

Jillan hesitated. ‘Well, certain things have happened, but I wouldn’t say I’m a wizard.’

‘Hmm. Have you had any training?’

‘No.’

‘Pity. I was hoping you might be able to train me some. Oh well. Want a puff on my pipe?’

‘No, thanks,’ Jillan replied politely.

‘’Sall right. It was only by way of friendship.’

Jillan remained silent and began to feel awkward. He looked out at the view again. It hadn’t changed. He felt Bion’s eyes on him and shifted uncomfortably. What was he doing here? If they didn’t leave soon …

‘So what is it you want to know, Jillan?’ Bion suddenly asked, interrupting his thoughts. ‘Ask me about magic. I know all sorts of things.’

Jillan stole a glance at the gnome. ‘Well, I … Magic is dangerous, isn’t it?’

‘Oh yes, very dangerous. Even when the intention behind it is good, all too often innocent people get hurt.’

Like Karl
. ‘But can’t it be controlled?’ he asked, trying to keep desperation from his voice.

Bion sighed. ‘If only, if only. You see, the magic-wielder draws on the life energy around them and then channels it. But the act of drawing requires them first to use some of their own life energy from their core. The greater the work of magic undertaken, the more the magic-wielder must use of themselves. Their core is essentially lessened by the use of magic. If you’ve used magic at all, you’ll have experienced a terrible tiredness afterwards, no doubt? Yes. The core then demands life energy be drawn to replace that which has been lost. It’s like a hunger or craving. The more a wizard uses magic, the more they are essentially lessened and the greater the hunger becomes. Most tell themselves they can control the hunger, but the hunger becomes greater and greater until eventually it is the hunger that controls the magic-wielder. You asked me if magic can be controlled. When you are young and strong, yes, but ultimately no. Magic ultimately turns all wizards into unthinking, ravening beasts. They lose all feeling and do not care for friends or loved ones. There is only the magic and the need to consume more, even though it is themselves who are being consumed. Fortunately, by the time magic takes control, the wizard’s core has become so lessened that they are weak, twisted and old long before their time. They either simply fade away or they go out in one final blaze of glory. Don’t believe me? Just look at me, Jillan! I was once a strapping and handsome six-foot man.’

Jillan’s eyes became as large as wagon wheels as he stared at Bion. He
did
believe him. Hadn’t the taint already taken control of him on several occasions?

‘Heh, heh. Well, maybe I wasn’t as tall and handsome as all that. But I was much stronger and straighter.’

‘S-so I shouldn’t use magic at all?’

Bion nodded. ‘Precisely. I hardly use it at all any more myself. I want to enjoy as many days as I can among the good people of Linder’s Drop, smoking my pipe here on my thinking stone and taking in the wonder of the Geas. What better life could there be? It is safe here and I am never forced into using magic. Thomas is a friend to all and his daughters delight the soul, do they not?’

‘Yes,’ Jillan replied numbly. He wanted to call on the taint but dared not. It might try to take control of him again.

‘Are you sure you don’t want a puff? You look a bit overwhelmed, Jillan. The smoke will calm you and help you see things more clearly.’

The pipe was pushed into his hand and he held it limply, staring out on the scene in a reverie. Magic was dangerous. It hurt innocent people. It made him into a monster who didn’t care about anyone or anything. It would only make things worse if he tried to help anyone by using it. It would be better if he did nothing and avoided places where he’d be tempted or forced to use his magic. Perhaps it would be better if he stayed in a place like Linder’s Drop instead.

As the sun touched the horizon, its light refracted momentarily and made him blink. How long had he been sitting here? The pipe had gone out. He thrust it back at Bion.

‘I have to go,’ he said urgently. ‘If we don’t leave before its dark—’

‘But we didn’t finish our chat about magic, Jillan,’ the gnome reproved him.

‘I have to save my parents in Hyvan’s Cross.’

‘But they would not want you to risk yourself, Jillan. They helped you escape knowing what it would mean. If you go to Hyvan’s Cross, their sacrifice will have been in vain. And you can’t use magic to free them. They sent you to find Thomas because they wanted him to bring you to Linder’s Drop so that you could be safe, and perhaps happy one day.’

‘Who told you about them? Neither Ash nor Aspin knew those things.’

‘Why, you yourself did, Jillan,’ Bion said in surprise. ‘We’ve been sitting here talking about all sorts of things. Maybe the smoke was stronger than I realised. It can cause people to forget things sometimes, particularly if they’re not used to it.’

He hadn’t told the wizard about his parents, had he? He couldn’t remember. His head was in a muddle. He needed to sit down and think properly, but there was no time.

‘Don’t worry. If you need to get to Hyvan’s Cross, I can show you a secret and direct path. You’ll be there almost before you leave. Trust me, it’ll be fine. How long before you need to be there?’

He was on his feet, dithering. ‘I’m not sure. I’ve lost track. Ten days maybe.’

‘Well then, there’s nothing to worry about, is there?’

‘I-I need to find Ash and Aspin. Bye bye, thank you.’

‘Wait! I thought you wanted to know about Haven?’

But he wrenched himself away and raced back across the meadow. Where had he originally entered it from? He didn’t recognise the trees now that their shadows had lengthened. He heard the stream off to his right and ran towards it. There were no stepping stones here but he knew he needed to be on the other side. He splashed through and followed the far bank, relying on it to take him to where he’d crossed earlier. But after a while it began to bend further to the right and lead him in a direction all his instincts told him was wrong. The stream then ended in a dramatic waterfall down the wooded side of the drop. He turned around to follow the stream all the way back to where he’d come from.

He told himself he was an idiot for not paying better attention in the first place. Now he came to a place where another stream joined his, and he realised he must have been following the wrong stream all along. He opted to follow the new one and was soon in a thick and dark part of the woods he didn’t recognise.
Don’t panic! Think!
He made his way back to where the streams met and wondered what he should now do. Dare he just strike out into the woods in a direction he guessed was correct, leaving the streams behind him, or would that only get him into an even worse mess?

‘Helloooo! Can anyone hear me? Ash! Aspin! Stara! Hello? I’m lost.’

Freda trammelled through the ground. It was so much nicer to be travelling through proper rock, rather than the thin sludge everyone called mud. Hard rock scraped her clean and left her feeling fresh. It removed all the mites and beetles that liked to lurk and nest in the cracks of her skin. She could kill them herself, of course, by squeezing the cracks closed, but the resulting ooze inside her joints felt distinctly unpleasant. Plus bits of insect body got trapped inside, grated, and caused her irritation.

The rock here was particularly dense too, making it feel more real than most places in the world of the Overlords. There was a great strength and power here, which presumably originated from the Great Temple, as if it were some centre of gravity separate from the rest of the world. She thrilled at the feeling of the central region, but at the same time it made her nervous. It was probably best if she got through this place as quickly as possible.

She powered onward and then became aware of a distant vibration. It was not the natural and inherent vibration of the rock itself; rather, the rock was carrying the sound and movement of something trapped deep below. Trapped? What made her think the source of the vibration was trapped? She moved closer. Screams. High-pitched and unpleasant, then low and animalistic. What monster could make such sounds? How terrible must its suffering be?

She knew she should ignore it because there was no time to do otherwise. She didn’t want to disappoint friend Anupal, after all. She’d promised she would go with him to the place where they could do good things to make good friends; and that place would only be there if they got there in time. Yet her heart wouldn’t let her just leave the screamer, monster or otherwise, in such distress. She would see what she could do and make up the time afterwards, carrying friend Anupal through the night if necessary so that he could get the rest he needed.

Closer still and she felt a more sinister vibration beneath the screaming. Sun-metal! The screamer was trapped inside a cube of it. She was appalled. Who would be so cruel as to do this to another being? It was the worst of tortures, eternal diminishment and a stripping away of being. No wonder the creature screamed constantly. It must have been driven mad by its imprisonment. It must yearn for death.

‘I see you!’ it resonated, and capered about in the cube, first on the ceiling, then it crouched in a corner. ‘Come to taunt me? Gar sent you, didn’t he? Told me not to overreach, didn’t he? What do you expect of Gar of the Still Stone? Inertia. No ictus for dynamic change. No catalyst. Nothing! What sort of god is that?’ A moment’s hesitation. ‘But what sort of gods are there any more? None. Leave me! You depress me. Leave me!’

Its demand was so strident that it was painful to listen to. She backed away, at a loss as to how she could help anyway. She was powerless against the sun-metal.

‘Leave me, leave me, LEAVE ME!’

Agony. The screamer’s. Her own. The rock’s. Her mind rattling and fracturing. Fragmentation. She had to get away before it shattered her. She vomited dust and debris, the rock around her becoming a deluge. She ran and swam and fought her way up, refusing to let it sweep her away into the bottomless pit of eternity, where the punishing Underlords awaited the fall of the world. She hardened, solidified, became immovable bedrock and faced the tearing torrent. She would not let it drown her.