Satan's Gambit (The Barrier War Book 3) (30 page)

“I’m sorry it
happened like this, Deeta,” he said sincerely, “I really am, but you chose the
time and place and forced this on me.” Flasch stood and turned to leave, then
paused. “I think I’ve seen the best in you, Deeta, and it’s a wonderful sight,
but the rest of you clouds it over and buries it so deeply I wonder if you even
can see it yourself. I hope you learn to, Deeta, for your sake.”

And with that,
he left her.

Deeta looked
about her with tear-filled eyes, but she saw only hard, expressionless, denarae
faces staring back at her. Caeesha watched her with pity, which only spurred
Deeta to leap to her feet and rush off into the night in despair.

She avoided all
the campfires and ran to where only the night held sway. Without the light from
the fires, though, Deeta quickly stumbled on the uneven terrain and tumbled to
the ground. She whimpered in pain as the soft skin of her hands split and
chafed on the stony ground, and tears of pain joined the tears of anguish
already streaming down her face.

“Don’t cry,
pretty Deeta,” a gentle voice said, and Deeta glanced up to see an old man standing
over her. She recognized Trames by the moonlight glinting off his head.

“Go away,
Trames,” she sobbed. “Leave me alone, I’m an ugly person and nobody loves me.”

“Now that’s not
true,” Trames said, calmly settling himself on the ground at her side. Without
asking, he took out a handkerchief from a pouch at his side, wet it from his
canteen, and quietly began wiping off her wounds. “After all, I love you, and
I’m not nobody. I’m somebody.”

Deeta snorted at
the tone of childlike simplicity in his voice, but the tears quickly regained
control of her.

“That’s not what
I mean, Trames,” she sobbed. “Flasch is gone now. I loved him, but he left me
for a simple country girl who probably doesn’t even like him. He took better
care of me than any other man I’ve ever known, and I’ve never been with someone
as long as I was with him. He was such a good man!”

“Of course he
is,” Trames said, still tending to her hands, “and that’s why you were
attracted to him, and I know he was attracted to the good that’s in you. That’s
how it works.”

“That’s what
Flasch said,” Deeta sniffed, “but that I covered it up. I don’t cover up my
good parts! I was good to him, I made him feel good!”

Trames sighed, a
gentle, patient sound that brought Deeta up short. Then he broke into one of
his unique little sing-songs:

I cared what
he, I cared what she

I cared all
what you thought.

I found it
strange, I’d tried to change

for all save
whom I ought.

“My dear,” he said
gently when he was finished, “do you know why flowers attract bees?” Deeta
shook her head. “So they can breed. The bees carry pollen from flower to
flower, making it possible for the flowers to spread their seeds. Other flowers
attract birds, and still others attract types of bugs, all by different
methods. They’re drawn to colors, scents, everything.

“Now, if you’re
a flower that looks good to bugs, what do you think you’re going to attract?”

“Bugs,” Deeta
answered, not understanding.

“And if you look
or smell good to bees or birds, you’re going to attract bees or birds,” Trames
said. Deeta nodded. “If you try to attract a man with only your body, you’re
going to get men who are only interested in your body. You get what you
attract.”

Deeta winced,
thinking of most of the men she’d ever been with. “But Flasch wasn’t just
interested in my body,” Deeta protested.

“Of course he
wasn’t, but that’s all you ever presented to him,” Trames said gently. “Flasch
may be a bit strange,” he said with a smile, “but at heart he
is
a good
man, and the reason he’s good is because he’s true to himself and to those
around him. He doesn’t pretend to be anything he’s not, except maybe a fool, so
when you see Flasch, you actually see
him
. What do you see when you see
yourself?”

Deeta stayed
silent.

“True people
will always seek true people,” Trames said, then he shrugged, “but then so do
untrue people. It is the truth that everyone seeks, whether we know it or not.
I’ve lived a long time, and I’ve seen couples who were together for decades,
and some who were together for mere days. A lot of those relationships ended
because one person suddenly felt like they didn’t know the other, or like
they’d been living a life that wasn’t their own, trying to be someone they
weren’t for the sake of their partner. Some didn’t even realize they were doing
it.

“You speak so
ill of Anolla just for being who she is, but really I think you envy that,”
Trames said. “It’s what untrue people most often despise about true people,
what they just can’t understand. True beauty is the bounding of the deer, the
circling of the hawk, the flickering of a fish. Beauty itself is being what you
are, not covering it with shiny pretense. It is the art of truth,” he said and
wiped his handkerchief on her cheek, removing a strip of makeup, “and this
isn’t it.”

Somewhere during
the old man’s talk, Deeta’s tears had dried up, and she stared at him with rapt
attention.

“A true man, a
true love,” he said, “will always be attracted to the truth in you, that beauty
which has little to do with how you look.”

“What do I do?”
she whispered. “What if I’m ugly inside, too?”

“I’ve never met
anyone truly ugly inside,” Trames said with a wry twist to his mouth, “though I
have no doubt they exist. As long as you can recognize beauty, I believe it
still lies somewhere within you.”

Trames smiled a
secret sort of smile, and his eyes gleamed.

“Come look
here,” he said, and he pulled out a jar that smelled strongly of honey. He
lifted the lid and peered inside, whispering softly as though talking to
something inside. Then he leaned his head back and motioned for her to look
inside. “Please.”

Deeta looked
into the jar and, for a moment, saw nothing at all.

“What…”

“Just look,
you’ll see her,” Trames said confidently.

Deeta peered
intently into the jar, and suddenly she saw something moving within. At first
she could just make out what looked like a tiny person with wings, then the
body was lit by a dull orange light that steadily grew brighter and brighter
until a golden glow spilled out from the honey pot like a lighthouse beacon.

“It’s
beautiful,” Deeta said, her voice catching.

“She’s a fire
faerie,” Trames said, “and not just anybody can see them, unless one shows
herself or you know how to look for them. They’re very, very rare. She has such
a very bright light, but you have to look just right to be able to see it. It’s
usually hidden by her surroundings.”

“How can she
hide such a glow?” Deeta asked in awe.

“Even the empty
air is thick enough to hide in, if you know how,” Trames said with a shrug.

The glowing
creature flew out of the jar and landed on Deeta’s arm, then danced her way
down to a quickly extended hand. The fire faerie leapt and spun on her palm as
though she had an invisible partner, and Deeta’s face lit up with marvelous
joy.

“Do you want to
keep her?” Trames asked, extending the jar.

Deeta hesitated,
then shook her head. As the tiny faerie finished her dance, she bowed politely
to Deeta and lifted off into the air. She flew away and was quickly lost among
the wildlife in the night.

“Something that
beautiful should be free,” Deeta whispered in awe.

“Yes, yes it
should,” Trames agreed. “It’s wonderful to see the beauty in something else,
isn’t it?”

Deeta nodded
wordlessly. Trames stood quietly, laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, then
wandered off toward the camp.

As she sat
staring off after the vanished faerie, Deeta heard Trames exclaim, “Aha! Now I
have an empty pot again. How useful.”

The first step in avoiding a trap is knowing of its
existence. And yet, if you knew the future, would you not be trapped by that
knowledge? How then does this paradox speak to divine planning and will?

- Orange Paladin Oneth
de’Weiden,

“A Question of Fate” (967 AM)

- 1 -

“The Binding,”
Mikal said, pointing ahead needlessly.

While the
expedition fanned out behind them and began divesting themselves of gear, the
leaders stopped and just stared.

While the
Merging was an invisible barrier between two empty plains, the Binding was a
shimmering sliver of resplendent light trapped between the narrow walls of a
massive cleft in the mountain. Walls of sheer stone sloped down on either side,
leaving a gap large enough to ride two full-grown dakkan runners through
side-by-side. The curtain of light was a dozen yards or so back from the mouth
of the cleft.

A feeling of
peace and serene holiness emanated from the narrow divide, leaving no doubt
that beyond that light, Heaven awaited them.

“It’s only this
visible because it’s dusk,” Mikal said. “At any other time of day or night, it
cannot be seen save at a particular angle.”

“Hard to get an
angle on that thing looking down such a narrow passage,” Hoil commented.

“I think that’s
the point, brother,” Birch said. “It looks like the cleft is a dead-end beyond
the Binding, so there would be little reason for anyone to venture inside.”

“No wonder it’s
so well hidden,” Marc said, staring in awe at the light.

Garnet took in
an eye-full of the Binding, then turned his mind to more pressing matters.

“Now that we’ve
found it, we dare not delay long before crossing,” he said briskly. “Much as
I’d love to give us all a full night’s sleep before crossing over, I can’t in
good conscience delay it any longer. Dad,” he said, turning to look behind him,
“you’ve selected the
jintaal
to carry back word?”

Garet nodded.

“Then everyone
grab a quick meal and start preparing your belongings for the crossing or the
journey home,” he said with a significant glance at his sister and brother, who
were trying to remain inconspicuous next to a wagon. “I want everyone who’s
crossing ready to move in two hours. If you have any goodbyes to say, I suggest
you say them before then.”

“Two hours,
Garnet?” Marc protested. He didn’t
quite
glance at Janice, who stood
with Alicia, Caeesha, Moreen, and a few of the other women from Shadow Company.
“Isn’t that a little abrupt?”

“If there’s a
company of angels somewhere getting slaughtered and we could get to them, do
you want to explain to God why we weren’t there in time?” Garnet asked
pointedly.

Marc’s jaw
snapped shut. “I hate it when he makes sense,” he muttered beneath his breath
to no one.

Trames
nonchalantly sidled past Garnet’s view, but the Red paladin pointed a finger at
him and shook his head.

“You’re not
coming, Trames,” Garnet said, and Marc thought he detected a hint of regret in
Garnet’s face. The old man opened his mouth to reply, but Garnet shook his
head. Kala appeared and stood next to Trames, her face neutral.

“I don’t pretend
to know everything about you two or why you were coming here,” Garnet said,
“but I do know that where we’re going is no place for you, Trames, and while
Kala could no doubt handle herself, your care is her charge, and she stays with
you.”

“We understand,
Garnet,” Kala answered softly. Trames opened his mouth yet again to say
something, but quieted at her hand on his shoulder.

Trames sighed.
Marc peered closely at the old man’s face. He wasn’t disappointed, he was… sad.
Mournful even.
He had to know this decision was coming, right?
Marc
thought.
He’s taking it awfully hard.

The pair walked
away, Kala hugging Trames’s shoulders in support. Garnet stared after them a
moment, then glanced down at his feet. The Shadow Company commander looked up
and caught Marc’s eye, then squared his shoulders and walked off without
another word.

- 2 -

Perklet walked
into the firelight where Nuse and James were enjoying their final meal with the
expedition. Both men had been selected as part of the
jintaal
to carry
word back to the Prism that the Binding had been found, and would then lead the
rest of the paladin forces back to the crossing point to Heaven. Perklet would
miss them, with Nuse’s dry wit and James’s steady presence, but theirs was an
important mission, and he still had Garet and Birch for companionship.

Despite his
gentle, easy nature, Perklet didn’t make friends easily, and he lamented the
necessity of letting these two leave him.

“Have a seat,
Perky,” James said, motioning with a chicken drumstick for the Green paladin to
be seated. Perklet politely shook his head.

“I just came to
wish you a safe journey,” he demurred softly. “There are a number of elves and
denarae who need tending from everyday trail mishaps, and I want to make sure I
see to them before it’s too late and we have to leave.”

“There
are
other Greens in this expedition, you know, Perk,” Nuse said, mumbling through a
mouthful of seasoned chicken. “Why not relax and let them take care of it?”

“They all have
other things to worry about,” Perklet said humbly, “and I’m already packed and
fed. How can I refuse to go where I’m needed?”

“Perklet,” Nuse
said with a friendly smile, “you aren’t by any chance trying to get nominated
for sainthood, are you?”

“Wh.. N..No, I
just,” Perklet stammered.

James laughed. “Easy,
Perk, don’t get flustered. Nuse is just teasing you. We both think it’s
wonderful, how much you do for everyone.”