Shadow of the Otherverse (The Last Whisper of the Gods Saga Book 3) (6 page)

Myselene radiated extreme displeasure. Thinking back on it, she realized she should have been more active in drafting the agreement that bound Sorial to Vantok, but she had left that task to Azarak and then-Chancellor Toranim. She didn’t like having her authority challenged and there was no other way to interpret Sorial’s power play. Her response was clipped and tart. “Very well, Your Magus. What’s your pleasure in this matter?”

Sorial remained unperturbed in the face of his queen’s displeasure. “Accompanied by a suitable escort, Lady Lavella will travel to the Ibitsal portal to determine her suitability. If the portal calls her, Ariel will be taken with all speed to the portal so Lavella can enter immediately following her death. If Lavella fails to show magical aptitude, Ariel will be executed as soon as possible. If there’s a chance we can gain the support of a third wizard, we have to try it, even if there’s risk involved.”

“What if my sister doesn’t want to be a wizard? Has anyone consulted her about this?”

Sorial leveled a hard look at Carannan. “We’re long past the point where
choice
is a factor. Ask your daughter if you doubt that. This is a matter of duty and, having served as The Wizard’s Bride for fifteen years, that’s something she knows.”

* * *

There was a palpable frostiness between the queen and her wizard as the two were led through the halls of the palace toward the chamber where they were scheduled to dine with King Durth. They were flanked by four of Myselene’s guards but those men were along purely for ceremonial reasons. The ruler of Basingham had assured the queen that their agreement remained in place even after Sorial’s actions assured the inevitability of an attack by The Lord of Fire.

Sorial could understand his liege’s petulance. She wasn’t used to being contradicted or overruled and she undoubtedly viewed the experience as a humiliation. He privately admitted that he could have been - and should have been - more tactful. He was sure, however, that if she took the time to consider the situation, she would arrive at the conclusion he had. After the council, in private, she had accused him of letting “familial considerations” sway his judgment; he found the indictment unworthy of her. Yes, Ariel was his sister, but he had never allowed that to impede his thinking regarding her. It wasn’t as if they had a long, loving relationship. At this point, she was a piece on a game board. They all were. He didn’t doubt the necessity of her death - merely that it had to be timed for the most opportune moment.

The room they were ushered into was deep in the palace, far away from windows. Myselene’s four guards joined the eight members of Basingham’s royal contingent already on duty. Sorial and the queen entered a dining hall that was smaller than any of the others where they had previously eaten.  The table was set for six places, two of which were occupied by nobles Sorial dimly recognized from his previous forays into the palace. The king, who would occupy the head of the table, had not yet arrived, nor had the person who would sit at the foot.

A practiced smile transformed Myselene’s face as she sat next to one of the nobles and began to engage him in small talk. Sorial, less familiar with the arts of statecraft, sat silently across from his queen. He observed the noble with whom she was conversing as well as the man sitting next to him. Both seemed ill at ease. Their smiles were thin and nervous. He wondered if Myselene sensed the same thing. She gave no indication of it but he knew her well enough to understand that she wouldn’t let on if that was the case. She continued an animated conversation that was largely one-sided.

Servants entered the room to fill goblets. Myselene drank deeply from her cup and pronounced the vintage to be excellent. Sorial sipped despite having no sense of taste or smell. If nothing else, it warmed his belly but it made no difference to him whether the wine was rare and precious or nearly vinegar.

“If I might ask a question, Your Magus?” prompted the noble to Sorial’s right.

The wizard forced a smile. “Of course.”

“Do you believe that, with your magic joining Basingham’s military might, we might be able to defeat our nemesis?”

How to answer that? Sorial had never been good at prevarication but he instinctively knew that honesty wasn’t the best approach here, even if there were only two nobles in the room. One set of ears was all it would take to set off a panic. Myselene had heard the question and, even though she was continuing her conversation with the other man, she was listening to hear how Sorial would respond.

“Much depends on what forces The Lord of Fire brings to bear. He’s got many things at his disposal, but I think we’re better prepared and more aware than last time. I don’t think this will be a repeat of Vantok.”
No, it will be far, far worse.
The only hope was that less blood would be spilt because the victory would be so complete.

“So glad to hear that,” replied the noble but he seemed neither relieved nor reassured. If anything, he was more nervous than before. Sorial’s hackles rose.

Conversation died when the door opened to admit the fifth member of the dinner party. This was one of the fattest men Sorial had ever encountered. The two Basingham nobles rose and bowed. Myselene, her face frozen in an expression somewhere between distaste and dismay, remained seated. Sorial followed her lead. “Ambassador Uthgarb,” she said, inclining her head only slightly in acknowledgment. “How pleasant to see you again after these many weeks.”

Uthgarb’s answering smile was as false as any Sorial had seen. The mask of avarice it concealed made Sorial’s stomach churn. He had heard much about Myselene’s dealings with Uthgarb when she had been negotiating Basingham’s participation in the Battle of Vantok, but he had never before met the man. He was surprised at how powerful his instinctive sense of repulsion was.

“Your Majesty, I’ve longed to speak with you since your arrival at Basingham but opportunities have been scarce with war preparations demanding my attention. Since King Durth has unfortunately been delayed this evening, it seems this is my opportunity. The king instructs us to begin without him. I aim to present you with a repast the equal of the one you served me on our last meeting. With one difference, of course. And I will eat from the same plate as you to confirm this.”

Sorial didn’t understand the cryptic reference but it was clear from the sudden paleness of Myselene’s features that she did. There was danger here, although he couldn’t be certain how serious it was. Basingham might be an ally but Uthgarb was not a friend and his history with Myselene went deeper than their having engaged in difficult negotiations.

Nothing else was said until after the first course had been served. It was some kind of thick soup or porridge. Its smelly was gamy and its look reminded Sorial of the gruel he had often eaten while working as a stableboy at The Wayfarer’s Comfort. Myselene waited until Uthgarb had consumed two large spoons full ladled from a common bowl before delicately tasting it. Sorial ate more out of politeness than hunger. The tension in the room had robbed him of his appetite.

“Let me begin, Your Majesty, by offering my most sincere apology.” Uthgarb, apparently a stranger to the manners common at nobles’ dinners, sprayed heavily spiced spittle all over the table in front of him. He shoveled another spoonful into his mouth as he continued, “In light of what happened at Vantok, I now see that you were right. I can’t help but wonder whether more troops from Basingham might have made a difference and whether my obstinacy regarding price resulted in too little aid.”

“In the end, I doubt the addition of several hundred additional men from Basingham would have made any difference. Not against what we faced,” said Myselene. Her voice was as cold, sharp, and brittle as a long, thin icicle.

“Fair enough,” said Uthgarb. “Since I wasn’t there, I bow to your wisdom in the matter. But I can’t help but regret that I wasn’t more gracious in my negotiations with you. Of course, you got what you wanted in the end and the ruthlessness you showed taught me a few things. Some might find it amusing - an old diplomat like myself being schooled on the rougher principles of deal making by a slip of a girl less than half his age. You may come to find that I am an excellent pupil, Your Majesty.”

Uthgarb’s false smile had become almost predatory. He leaned to one side and pulled the bell that would ostensibly result in the next course being brought in.

There was a sudden commotion in the hall outside the dining chamber: the clash of steel and several cries cut off in mid-shout. Sorial attempted to rise to his feet and felt as if the floor was buckling under him. He collapsed, his vision filling with black specks as the world tilted wildly around him. He was dimly aware of Myselene grasping the side of the table, trying to stay upright. The two nobles had slumped over their meals, heads resting on the table.  Uthgarb continued to slurp his soup noisily.

“Not poison, Your Majesty, but something that will make you suitably docile for a while. And in the drink, not the food.”

Sorial’s instinct was to escape, but he couldn’t summon sufficient concentration to slide through the flagstones comprising the floor. The will to act was too slick to corral and the rock beneath his feet proved obdurate. His stomach rebelled, expelling its contents but the drug had already infected his mind. He tried desperately to tie off the fraying strands of his concentration and bring them to bear. If only he could slide beneath the earth…

“It seems your wizard isn’t very good at holding his drink,” said Uthgarb, his comments directed at Myselene, his voice sounding far away. “Pity. Not surprising, though. Couldn’t risk him ruining this dinner by using magic. And you needn’t worry about Barons Rivera and Dalton. They are loyalists to my cause and were fully aware of what was required of them. After all, would you have drunk from the cup of woe without seeing them do so as well? You may have suspected poison, but that’s not my style, Your Majesty. Although it may come to pass that you’ll wish it was.”

Uthgarb continued talking but the words were no longer clear to Sorial. He doubted Myselene could hear, either. Perhaps he was talking to hear himself and offer self-congratulations on a scheme well executed. It didn’t matter to the wizard, who found himself surrendering to an onrushing blackness that was so familiar it felt almost like an old friend.

CHAPTER SIX: THE OTHER CONTINENT

After nearly two weeks spent mostly underwater, Alicia found it strange to be on land once again. She hadn’t yet reached her final destination but she was close - no more than a day away. Since sleep wasn’t possible while in the water, she had stopped here to rest and recuperate so she would be fresh when setting foot on the distant shore.

Being naked no longer bothered her. At one time, the prudishness of her upbringing had made her self-conscious but she now found it comfortable to be without clothing, especially when in the water. It helped that the temperature was mild. She doubted she’d feel the same way if wandering naked north of The Broken Crags, despite the protection afforded by her magic. She wouldn’t freeze to death but she could still experience physical discomfort.

She was on a small island. It was a good stopping place with enough berries and edible plants to satisfy her hunger and a fresh water stream to slake her thirst. While swimming, her body no longer required the basic necessities of food, water, and sleep at the rate it did when she was on land, but there were limits. This was her third stop since departing Basingham. If all went as planned, it would be the final one.

She tried, as she had several days ago, to contact Sorial, but there was no response from the far end. Either no one was watching the mirror, the water had spilled, or Sorial was in transit. Her rational mind told her the last of those possibilities was the most likely, but it still made her nervous. What if The Lord of Fire had attacked Basingham and something had gone terribly wrong? She believed she would somehow know if he was seriously injured or killed, but she couldn’t be certain, especially at such a distance. It was a little frightening to recognize how truly alone she was out here, so far away from the places and people she knew. This made the trip she had taken to the North seem like an afternoon excursion.

She wished she had been a better student of geography growing up. As a child, she had been supplied with a veritable army of tutors and governesses, teaching her everything from archery to reading to history. The two subjects for which she had shown the least interest - history and geography - would have been useful in her current circumstances. But as a girl more intrigued with getting a certain stableboy to be attentive, worrying about what continents might lie on the other side of the globe didn’t seem important.

For most of Alicia’s life, the “world” had been bounded on two sides by the Great Eastern Ocean and Great Western Ocean, in the north by The White World and in the south by The Forbidden Lands.  There were six cities and countless smaller villages, some of which owed allegiance to one city or another and many of which were independent. From time-to-time, a ship would sail across one of the seas to other, distant lands but her understanding of what they were like was limited. As far as Alicia knew, the best maps of the other continents were rough sketches made by the few explorers who returned alive.

If there were indigenous populations of humans on the other continents, visitors had never encountered them. Attempts had been made to start colonies but none had taken root, although the precise reasons weren’t known. The treks were long and dangerous and three out of four ships were lost on the crossing, meaning that few reached the distant continents and even fewer returned. Trips had been more frequent in the distant past; the last successful return crossing had been in her father’s youth. The members of that expedition - treasure hunters in search of precious gems or minerals - had told tales of a wild, untamed land with monstrous carnivores and no sign of anything resembling a man. None of them had expressed any interest in going back.

It was known that wizards had once made frequent journeys to the world’s two other significant landmasses. The Yu’Tar Library had been established on one to limit visitation and keep away all but the most dedicated knowledge-seekers. Most scholars considered it to be a legend but Ferguson had sojourned there for an extended period. None of the sea creatures she communicated with knew of its existence even though it was supposed to be near the shore. Once she reached land, she would have to search for it by walking the coastline. That could take a long time.

She had no idea what to expect. Stories about the other continents told of lush jungles filled with dangerous animals. In places, it could rain for weeks on end - not something that would bother Alicia. Food and water were plentiful but the plants were so foreign it was impossible to determine whether their fruits were poisonous or not, except by trial. Alicia assumed she could sample them and, if they proved to be dangerous, use her powers to void her system. It wasn’t the safest approach to eating but it was better than starving and less risky than attempting to bring down a large animal for its meat. Overall, Alicia wasn’t concerned about her well-being; she was more apprehensive about taking too much time. Every minute she spent overseas gave another minute to The Lord of Fire to achieve his goal. She had to locate the library as quickly as possible and hope she’d be able to find the necessary information while it remained relevant and useful.

Like a lizard, she stretched out on a flat rock and sunned herself.  Her stomach was full of sweet fruits and the leaves from a plant similar to one cultivated by Vantok’s farmers. She allowed the warmth of the mid-day sun to lull her near to the edge of sleep. One hand drifted between her legs as her thoughts concentrated on Sorial. Images of him lying with the queen, giving Myselene the same pleasure he had given Alicia, were discomfiting but also strangely arousing. Alicia began to apply pressure as she imagined the two of them together in the darkness of Myselene’s tent. When she cried out, only the few birds and small burrowing animals populating the isolated island heard her.

She awoke after the sun had set; the stars were wheeling across the night sky, proceeding on predetermined journeys from horizon to horizon. There was no moon. The patterns in the heavens were those to which Alicia was accustomed. She had assumed that, after traveling such a great distance, they would be different. However, even though she was thousands upon thousands of miles from anything familiar, the stars were all where they were supposed to be.  There was something comforting about that, but it also gave her a sense of being very, very small. What was one wizard in such a vast universe? That was the difference between men and gods: men gazed in awe at the firmament; the gods dwelt in it - or had until they abandoned it for oblivion.

She found a high rock overlooking the ocean and launched herself toward the water in a long, graceful arc. Moments later, she was diving deep into the darkness, headed for what she thought of as her “swimming channel.” As she passed some of the larger sea creatures, she spared a greeting for them. They were hers to command; even the ones normally considered dangerous to humans were docile around her.

It was cool in the ocean’s depths and, even during the day, there was little light. Neither condition bothered Alicia. A capability of her magical association with her element imparted her with the ability to “see” even when there was no light. Sight wasn’t an important sense here, however. There were no predators stalking her and no legitimate sources of danger. She traveled by instinct and, when she veered off course, the fish let her know.

It occurred to Alicia that this was the first time in her life when she had truly been
alone
. In her childhood, she had always been surrounded by guards, governesses, tutors, servants, and the ever-present Vagrum. During her brief tenure as The Wizard’s Bride, she had been watched by Ferguson’s lackeys. On her trip to the Ibitsal portal, she had been accompanied by companions. After that, Sorial had always been there. Even when they set the trap for Ariel and were apart for several days, they had been close enough so he could have reached her in moments if she had needed him. Now, even racing through the earth, it would take him over a week to achieve her location. Out here, she truly was by herself. The realization was daunting and empowering. This trip would reveal who she was to herself.

A part of her worried that the journey might be wasted. She had no idea what to expect from the library and Ferguson hadn’t confided much except that it contained enough documents to dwarf Azarak’s collection of scrolls and tomes. The repository of wizardly knowledge contained volumes penned by men elevated by the passage of years to myth and others who had vanished into obscurity. If what she was looking for couldn’t be found there, it probably didn’t exist. But it was the matter of
finding
it that concerned Alicia. There was no librarian to point her in the right direction and little in the way of organization. By his own admission, Ferguson had spent years in the library and she suspected it had been the same for Justin. Although her search was specific while theirs had been general, could she succeed in a matter of weeks? Or would she leave more confounded and frustrated than when she entered?

By mid-afternoon, Alicia knew she was getting close to land. The seascape had changed. Not only was the water more shallow but the kinds of fish were different. During her journey, she had become knowledgeable about many of the creatures that inhabited the ocean and their preferred habitats. Not wanting to emerge in an area that could be physically hazardous, Alicia used her rapport with the creatures of water to guide her toward a “soft” beach.

When she emerged from the shallows, she was unprepared for what greeted her beyond the narrow stretch of crushed rock that formed a buffer between crashing waves and land. Alicia had seen vegetation before, but not like this. The profusion of green was astounding. These were huge, vibrant trees, towering three or four times higher than anything she had previously encountered. And there were so many of them… The jungle spread out as far as her eyes could see to the north and south with only the snail of brown beach dividing the ocean’s cerulean from the immense emerald canopy.

Where to go from here?  Her instincts said south, but she knew her sense of direction was unreliable. She had spent so much time worrying about how long it would take her to find the necessary texts in the library that she hadn’t considered the ramifications of a prolonged search for the structure. Knowing it was situated by the seaside was a help, but there were thousands of miles of coastline. If it was north and she went south…

The sea creatures weren’t helpful in determining the library’s location. Ferguson had suggested a landfall “just north of the great promontory” and a school of dolphins had indicated coming ashore here
might
put her at her desired location, but dolphins didn’t see things the way humans did. Not for the first time, she wished she had quizzed Ferguson in more detail about her goal, but what was done was done. She was on her own.

She had never seen trees like the ones here. Those around Vantok were small and, by comparison, stunted. The nearest forest to the city, some forty miles northeast, was well beyond the range of Alicia’s childhood roaming. Her trip to Widow’s Pass had been primarily through grasslands and the woodlands to the north, including those surrounding Ibitsal, were heavily populated by conifers. At that time of year, Winter had denuded the deciduous trees of their leaves, leaving behind branch skeletons. The gigantic specimens in this jungle radiated health and vitality. Her water senses were alive; this was a place where it rained daily. Once she entered, she would be wet. She welcomed the prospect.

Her nudity would be no more than a minor inconvenience. Since the continent was devoid of human inhabitants, there weren’t issues of propriety to be observed. On the other hand, her skin was soft so she would have to tread carefully to avoid painful scrapes and cuts. She could heal anything serious but it was the little wounds - too small to be worth expending the energy - that would make the journey uncomfortable. Her feet were a particular concern. If she could choose any article of clothing, it would have been a pair of hard-soled boots.

With the day’s light beginning to fade, Alicia decided not to venture beneath the trees today. Instead, she picked her way south along the beach. She didn’t see much in the way of animal life beyond the long-beaked birds that made food runs at the fish swimming in the shallows, but she wasn’t deceived. The jungle hid its share of creatures, both benign and threatening. She was close enough to the water that she had few concerns about defending herself if the need arose, and flight was always an option. The important thing was not to be taken unawares. Few wizards died in face-to-face confrontations; most fell when surprised.

She elected to spend the night on the beach with the comforting sound of the breakers close by. She summoned a large serpent from the ocean to watch over her while she slept - a useful and trustworthy guardian for the night. It curled protectively near her as she lay on a bed of seaweed that provided cushioning from the jagged stone fragments beneath her. As she gazed at the night sky, she wondered whether Sorial was seeing the same stars. She was unsure of the time differential. Was it night in Basingham or the middle of the day? She roused herself long enough to try once again to contact the mirror but her efforts met with failure. She stifled the twinge of worry. They had known from the beginning that this method of communication was flawed. The hope was that Sorial would find a means using earth that would prove more reliable.

Even with the reassuring presence of the 20-foot long snake nearby, the jungle intimidated Alicia. By the light of the stars, its green had become the deepest of blacks. The bird calls of the day were replaced by a cacophony of insect chirps and the more ominous noises of larger creatures: howls, yelps, and growls - not all of them distant. Gazing toward the jungle, she occasionally caught glimpses of pinpricks of light - eyes shining in the darkness. In the ocean, all creatures were her friends. In this benighted land of trees and vegetation, the same wasn’t true.