The Book of Deacon: Book 02 - The Great Convergence (40 page)

She knew that telling Ivy this would hardly
help things, but she could not bear to lie to her. It was instantly
clear that the concept of trudging through a cave did not appeal to
her.

"You have to talk to him. You have to make
him let me stay. I don't trust his friends, and I don't want to go
in any cave," Ivy said, fairly begging.

"Listen to her. She must have been well
trained. She plays this part perfectly," Ether said.

"What are you talking about?" Ivy said
angrily.

"Ether, don't," Myranda warned.

"You are an agent of the enemy. You can do no
good to that end if you are not nearby. So you beg to stay. This
softhearted and softer minded girl feels for you, but I am not so
blind," she said.

"I am NOT one of them! I TOLD you I am NOT
ONE OF THEM!" Ivy raged, stamping toward Ether and pointing an
angry finger in her face.

Her anger had surged suddenly. The stir of
feelings swirling inside of her turned eagerly to it. Anything that
she could lock onto was preferable to the terrible uncertainty.

"Ether, no! What is wrong with you!? Are you
trying to make it happen again? Are you trying to get us killed?"
Myranda scolded, her own anger doubled by Ivy's.

Ivy turned to Myranda, a shocked, hurt look
on her face.

"You . . . you think I would kill you? I
would never . . . I could never . . . " she said.

When Ivy's anger dropped away, so did
Myranda's.

"You're afraid of me. Then . . . then maybe I
do need to go. But . . . but . . . " she said, flopping to the
ground.

She put her hands over her eyes, weeping
softly again. Myranda put her hand on her shoulder, only to have it
pushed away.

"No. Just leave me alone," she said.

Lain returned with a pair of snow rabbits, a
pink tinge on his teeth betraying that he had already had his
share. Ivy refused to eat, and though Lain did relent and allow a
fire to both restore Ether and cook Myranda's food, even the
tantalizing smell of roasting rabbit failed to tempt the distraught
Ivy. Myranda felt terrible. It was possible that this was merely
Ivy's own sadness spilling over, but she knew that even if that
were not the case she would hardly feel any better. She was the
only one in the world right now that the poor creature felt cared
for her, and now the feeling of trust was gone. There was nothing
she could say or do to make things better. She made herself as
comfortable as she could on the ground and prayed that she was
tired enough to slip into sleep despite the burning in her mind.
Once again, this went unanswered. Periodically she would open her
eyes. Shortly after she saw Lain settle down to rest in his own
way, she heard Ivy stir. For a moment, she could feel that the
creature was looking at her, inspecting her to see that she was
asleep. When she was satisfied, she turned away.

"Um . . . Ether," she said, sheepishly.

The shape shifter was sitting among the
crackling flames. Her eyes were closed, dutifully ignoring the
creature.

"I know you don't like me, but . . . I get
the feeling you wouldn't lie to me. You don't care about my
feelings," Ivy said.

"I am enormously concerned about your
feelings. I am certain that if they go unchecked they will be the
end of us," Ether answered.

"That's why you don't like me. B-Because of
my . . . my feelings," Ivy said.

"They are chief among a sizable list of
faults," Ether answered.

"So, if I . . . control my emotions. Then you
won't hate me so much," Ivy said.

"Why are you speaking to me? You know that no
good will come of it," Ether said.

"I don't want to go. I want to know what I
can do to stay," Ivy said.

"You were created specifically to infiltrate
and destroy the Chosen," Ether said.

"I wasn't!" Ivy snapped, quickly composing
herself. "I wasn't, but I know that you don't believe me. What can
I do to prove to you that you are wrong?"

"There is nothing you can do. You cannot
disprove what I know to be true," Ether stated.

Myranda could feel the frustration and
irritation fluttering just below the surface, but whenever it
arose, she pushed it down again. Carefully she opened her eyes
slightly. Ivy was kneeling before the flames, her hands clasped.
Begging.

"Then tell me how I can help
you
, how
I can abandon
them
," she asked.

"Attempting to prove loyalty through
treachery. Only a truly inferior mind could have produced such a
flawed concept," she jabbed.

Ivy took a deep breath as Myranda felt
another surge of anger come and go.

"Then what about Lain? What can I do to
convince him?" she asked.

"Again, absolutely nothing. His concerns,
well founded, are that you will get yourself killed if left to your
own devices, and his judgment is muddled by the same impairment
that renders you such a liability. He cares about you. Even if you
were to present to him a solid, sound, and irrefutable reason to
change his mind, I assure you, he would not do so. It was among the
first of my observations of mortals. Emotion robs them of reason,"
Ether said.

"Well . . . well you aren't emotional, right.
What would you do, if you were me," she said.

"End my own life," she answered without
hesitation.

"Why can't you help me?!" Ivy said, her
objection choked off by a knot in her throat.

"Ivy," Myranda said, sitting up.

She turned, then looked away quickly, trying
to hide her tears.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," she
said.

"Listen, Ivy. I want you to know that I am
sorry for what I said before. I didn't mean it," she said.

"Yes you did. You were just too nice to say
that before. That's why I didn't want to talk to you. You would be
nice. You wouldn't be honest," she said.

"Alright. You want honesty? I am afraid. I am
afraid when you lose control. But mostly I am afraid we might lose
you. That is what Lain is afraid of, too. I said it before. We need
you. And even if we didn't, I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt,"
she said.

"What do I do?" she pleaded.

"You need to learn control. That will come
with time," she said.

"What about Ether?" she asked.

"Don't mind Ether. She can't help the way she
is, just as you can't help the way you are. Don't take too much of
what she says to heart. She hasn't learned to deal with people
yet," Myranda said.

"I've no interest in learning so distasteful
a lesson," Ether remarked.

"Well what about Lain?" she asked.

"Lain . . . Lain knows that what we are doing
is very dangerous. He is willing to risk his own life. He isn't
willing to risk yours. I believe in you. I know that if you do the
best you can, and we work together, then we can do what needs to be
done, and we can protect each other. We just need to make him see
that," Myranda said.

"So, if I prove that I can take care of
myself, I might be able to stay?" she said.

"I can't say for sure, but, perhaps," Myranda
said.

"Then I'll do it!" she decided.

"Good, we need you," Myranda said.

With weight of her words off of her chest and
a flicker of hope to keep the group together, she settled down for
sleep again. This time it came swiftly. The sky was still black
when Ivy shook Myranda awake again. She had a strange look on her
face. It was a mix of fear with a dash of excitement.

"Six of them. Human soldiers, a few miles
away," she said breathlessly.

"Standard patrol, due south. They are headed
away now, but they will swing further this way with the next pass.
A few hours," Lain explained.

"I smelled them first. I knew they were
coming," she said.

"We can't move yet, but soon, and quickly,"
Lain said.

"If they are to the south, where will we go.
The mountains?" Myranda asked.

"No. It will slow us. West. Then south
through the fields," he said.

Lain trained his nose to the south, sampling
the air. Ether took her place beside Lain. She shifted to wind and
prompted a gentle breeze. Ivy quickly took a place between them,
mimicking Lain as closely as possible. Ether moved to the other
side, only to have Ivy wedge herself between again.

"Now," Lain stated.

Ivy nodded. She rushed to Myranda and took
her hand, pulling her forward. The four whisked across the field at
Lain's pace. There wasn't nearly light enough to see what was
ahead. Only Lain seemed to know. Ivy was just eager, even desperate
to stay by his side. Ether swept effortlessly as wind. Myranda
could hardly breathe, but she did her best to keep up the pace. If
not for Ivy's firm and insistent aid, Myranda would scarcely have
had a chance of staying with them. The malthrope had a look of
determination, of focus. Without a word, Lain shifted his path. Now
they headed south. Suddenly, Ivy froze. Her head turned and locked
onto the darkness to the west. Lain stopped and turned. His gaze
was enough to urge forward, but Ivy wouldn't budge. She was
trembling slightly. Ether came to a stop, floating above her,
looking down with mild disgust. Then she too turned to face the
darkness.

"D'karon," she said, darting toward the
source of Ivy's fear.

"Never mind her. Keep moving," Lain
urged.

"I . . . I . . . No. We have to stay
together. We have to protect each other. She'll be killed!" Ivy
decided.

Without time for another word, Ivy was off,
Myranda still in her grasp. Behind them, the rapid strides of Lain
could just barely be heard. Somehow he managed to sprint almost
silently. The same was not so for Ivy, as each step crunched loudly
on the icy ground. She cast a glance back and saw him quickly
closing the gap between them. Myranda was holding onto Ivy with one
arm and her staff and bag with the other, her feet barely touching
the ground.

"He is going to catch up," Ivy said
nervously.

"You need to slow down. We need to be
cautious. Wait for him, we can do this together," Myranda urged
with what breath she had to spare.

"No. If he catches up he will stop me, and I
won't get to show him that I can do this. You will have to run on
your own. Promise you'll follow me," Ivy said.

"I promise," Myranda agreed.

The malthrope released her and doubled her
pace. With nothing but her ever present club to carry, she was now
at least a match for Lain's speed. Myranda ran for all she was
worth. Moments later Lain tore past her as though she were standing
still. The pounding footsteps of Ivy retreated into the distance,
and Myranda found herself alone in the pitch black night, her legs
burning with fatigue, her lungs frozen from the night air. The
ground began to slope gently upwards. At the crest of the hill,
Myranda found Lain. She tried to pass him, but he grabbed her.
Without a word, he pointed to the ground that sloped away ahead of
them. It looked strange. In most places in the north the earth was
a frozen mass, unbroken and undisturbed for a dozen winters. The
ground beyond the hill was different. It was churned up, almost as
though it had been tilled and plowed. Soil was visible among the
snow and ice, which meant the earth had been disturbed since the
last snowfall.

"What is it?" Myranda asked.

Lain silently pointed. Myranda strained her
eyes. Patches of the gray ground seemed to be moving. Bulges were
rippling their way across the ground. Tracing their course forward
led her eyes to the form of Ivy. She was standing perfectly still
in the center of the field, and judging by the steadily
intensifying blue aura about her, she was petrified by the churning
earth. As her fear grew, the aura grew brighter, making more of the
field visible to even Myranda's eyes. She quickly scanned the area.
The low hill they were perched upon seemed to ring the field. At
the center was a structure low to the ground made of an ancient
looking gray wood. There was one enormous door hinged at the bottom
like a draw bridge, and a slight wisp of thin smoke streamed from a
stout rectangular chimney. Slowly, one by one, the bulges stopped
approaching and sunk back into the ground.

"What are they?" Myranda whispered.

"I don't know," Lain said.

Ivy hesitantly took another step toward the
fort. The instant her foot touched the ground, a handful of the
bulges rose up again and began to move toward her. Again she froze,
and slowly they submerged.

"Ivy! Hold still!" Myranda called out.

Ivy couldn't stop shaking. When the last
piece of ground sunk back into place, the things were only a few
paces away. She looked to her friends. There was concern on
Myranda's face. Lain was steady as always. Not a drop of the fear
that was fairly coursing though her veins. She could feel it
passing a threshold, taking hold of her like it had before. Her
fingers tightened on the grip of the club. Not today. She turned to
the doors and sprinted. Out of the corners of her eyes she saw more
ripples than she could count streak past her. She pushed them from
her mind and pressed on. She would prove herself. Myranda watched
in horror. Each step coaxed a half dozen more of the threatening
ripples to the surface. It was the steps. The bulges only rose when
Ivy's feet hit the ground. The vibrations must have been alerting
them. Suddenly, directly in Ivy's path, one of the creatures
responsible burst from the ground. It was a horrid sight. She
skidded to a stop a hair in front of the beast. A worm, leathery
gray skin arranged in thick overlapping plates like armor, writhed
before her. It was thick as her waist and longer than she was tall.
The front split like a flower, with four jagged jaws snapping. A
dozen needle sharp tongues flitted in and out. The fear leapt back
into her throat and burned at her mind. Reflexively she raised her
club.

"Ivy, no!" Myranda shouted.