The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War) (13 page)

Late in the afternoon on
Decaday
,
Danner was aloft in the harness for his turn at Garnet’s new exercise. He’d
more or less gotten the hang of it and could at least keep his concentration
enough not to lose control of the cloak – the trick was actually
not
to
worry about it and just let the cloak work by itself for the most part.
Danner’s aim with his bowkur suffered, however and that’s what he was working
on. It was just the six of them this time; Alicia and Faldergash had gone
shopping to restock the gnome’s pantry.

When the time came for Danner to release from his harness,
he realized too late that his cloak had gotten tangled up in the harness, and
when Danner dropped he felt the material wrapped around his neck. The pale
yellow cloak cut painfully across his windpipe, blocking his airflow, and spots
appeared in Danner’s vision.

In desperation, he reached up and unfastened the cloak, and
then his weight pulled him free and he was plummeting toward the ground. He
gasped for breath and with forced calmness he allowed his glimmering wings to
sprout – or
asolve
, as he kept reminding himself –
from his back. Danner slowed his descent and hovered in the air, massaging his
throat. Below him, Michael had stopped the buggy, and they were reeling in the
rope and harness.

“Are you all right, Danner?”
Trebor kythed. His
mental voice sounded strained, and Danner was reminded how difficult it was for
Trebor to kythe sometimes with him.

“Fine. I was dumb and
the cloak got tied up in the harness. I nearly hung myself,”
Danner thought
back to him. He started to descend, then thought better of it.
“Tell Garnet to go ahead and chuck those
things at me. What the Hell.”
They were far enough away from any signs of
civilization; no one would see him aloft and wonder.

“Righto.”

A few seconds later, Danner saw Garnet lift the first
launcher and take aim at Danner. From his height, Danner couldn’t hear the
sound of the launcher firing, but he saw the clay pigeon hurtling toward him.
Danner whipped out his bowkur and swung and missed. The disc glanced almost
painlessly off his ribcage, but Danner guessed he’d still have a bruise.

Damn it,
he thought. Something felt strange about his
bowkur, as if it didn’t weigh anything at all.

The next pigeon was already airborne, and Danner swooped out
of the way even as he swung. This time the disc exploded in a satisfying
display of clay shards. Danner stared curiously at the shattered pattern as it
fell. It looked different somehow. Danner glanced down and saw that Flasch had
picked up another launcher while Marc and Michael reloaded the two extras –
there were four total – so now Danner had two pigeons airborne and aiming at
him.

“Well, I was looking for practice,” he said aloud.

He smashed the first disc, but just missed the second. Danner
frowned. His aim was off because of the strange feeling of weightlessness in
his bowkur. A gnawing suspicion slipped into his head.

When the next pigeon came his way, Danner moved aside and
aimed carefully. He swung, and the disc seemed to disintegrate more than
anything else. Little besides grayish white powder escaped to fall toward the
ground. He felt guilty about smiling as he pictured a cloud of pigeon feathers
exploding and drifting lazily in the wind.

“I wonder…” he said, then lost whatever else he might have
said as Flasch’s disc cracked Danner upside the head. Danner’s head spun, but
that was it. He reached up and there wasn’t even a bump, much less the blood he
expected to feel. Suspicious, he lifted his tunic and saw with some surprise there
was no bruise from where the first disc had hit him in the ribs.

“Trebor, tell them to
hold off for a minute,”
Danner thought to him.
“Oh, and hold up your hands and hang tight.”

“You’ve
gotta
be kidding me,”
Trebor kythed in reply, his mental voice incredulous.

“Just testing a
theory.”

Danner swooped low and grasped Trebor’s up-thrust hands… and
he lifted his friend like he was made of nothing but paper. Danner let go with
one hand and raised Trebor with the other until the pale-skinned denarae was
face-to-face with him.

“This is incredible,” Danner said aloud. The wind ripped his
words from his mouth almost before he’d said them, but Trebor heard enough.

“You can say that again,” Trebor yelled. “I’m guessing this
is another byproduct of Your Holiness’s special parentage.”

“Guess so.” Danner was too delighted with his newfound
discovery to be insulted by Trebor’s sarcasm. He flew for a few moments longer,
carrying Trebor effortlessly.

Eventually, Trebor stared him in the eye and kythed,
“Would
you mind putting me back on the ground now?”

“Oh, sorry,”
Danner replied sheepishly.

He dipped lower and slowed long enough to deposit Trebor
gently on the ground. On an impulse, Danner hovered over the buggy and grasped
the uppermost bar.

“Danner, what the Hell do you think you…ah!” Michael yelled
as Danner lifted the buggy off the ground. Danner grunted as he lifted the
weight of the buggy with the added mass of his friends, but he was doing it. It
was exhilarating!

“Danner, put the buggy back on the ground,” Garnet said, his
voice serious. Danner jumped slightly in surprise. He’d been so absorbed in his
ability, he’d forgotten his unwilling passengers.

He settled the buggy to the ground and then settled himself.
He left his wings asolved, their soft presence glowing luminously over his
shoulders.

“Can you turn those things off for a minute?” Flasch asked.
“That not-quite-feather thing gives me a headache.”

“In a second,” Danner replied. “Garnet, do me a favor. Hit
me with your bowkur. Just a swing at the ribs.”

“Um…”

“Don’t worry, if I’m hurt, I’ll bear the pain and feel
appropriately stupid afterward,” Danner said. “I want to test something.”

“I think there’s been enough testing,” Trebor murmured,
rubbing at his wrists where Danner had grabbed him. “You nearly broke my
wrists, buddy.”

“Sorry,
Treb
. Garnet?”

“Alright, on your head be it,” he said, then he swung.

Garnet’s bowkur was enormous, and the thick wooden blade
crashed into Danner’s ribs and knocked him sprawling. They rushed to his side,
but when they reached him Danner was laughing.

“Damn but that’s weird,” he said, choking as he inhaled a
cloud of dust. “Look, there’s not a mark on me, and it really didn’t hurt, but
the force itself is enough to make me not want to do that again.”

Danner lifted his tunic and they saw that, indeed, he didn’t
have a mark on him. Garnet frowned suspiciously at his bowkur, then stared at
Danner’s side again. Danner allowed his wings to disappear.
Dekint
,
he reminded himself. He felt a twinge of loss, as though he were somehow less a
person than he’d been a moment before.

“So what does this all prove?” Flasch asked.

“It doesn’t prove much, but it shows we may be right in
thinking Danner’s parents, or his mother at least, was an immortal,” Marc said.
They all turned to look at him. “Well I mean, at this point it’s still untested
theory, no matter how much we believe it’s true. Immortals are supposed to be
incredibly strong, and I think Danner has just proven that, and they’re also
impervious to mundane mortal weapons.”

“But Danner cut his thumb on a knife just yesterday helping
Faldergash in the kitchen,” Michael protested.

“Exactly. Danner’s symptoms of immortality are apparently
only there when his wings are asolved,” Marc said. “The rest of the time, he’s
as weak and mortal as the rest of us.”

“Well, gee, when you put it that way, it sounds like I’m a
power-hungry freak or something,” Danner said, keeping his voice forcibly
light. Uncomfortably, he remembered the feeling of exhilaration he’d
experienced when he’d picked up the buggy.

“You didn’t see your face, Danner,” Garnet said quietly.
“When you picked us all up, your eyes were almost mad with delight.”

“And I caught that
little feeling of guilt,”
Trebor kythed to him privately.
“It practically leaped out of you.”

Danner felt a flash of anger that they were being unfair
toward him, then he stopped and sighed.

“You’re right, guys,” he admitted reluctantly. “It did feel
good. Too good, I guess.”

“Danner,” Michael said, “I don’t think it’s anything to
worry about, because we’ve all seen it in you, and you have too. Next time
you’ll be forewarned and maybe control that feeling. I can tell you want to
explore this all more, and I think that’s right. Just remember we’re here to
help you because we care. You’re our friend. Just, you know, no more
spontaneous weight-lifting of your friends, okay?”

“Right,” Danner said and smiled at them. “Oh, can we all
remember not to mention this to Alicia, please?”

“What, she still doesn’t know you’re a cross between a
butterfly and a gnomish
glowlight
?”

Garnet reached over and rapped Flasch upside the head. They
all laughed, and Danner felt a tremendous weight suddenly lifted from his
shoulders. Marc even smiled at him and nodded encouragingly. As Alicia’s
brother, Marc had given his unhesitating approval once Danner’s interest in her
was common knowledge.

Danner put the incident behind him and allowed himself to
slouch down a bit in his seat to relax on the drive back.

Things were back to normal between them.

Justice: The balance of freedom and responsibility.

- “An Examination of Prismatic Virtue” (801 AM) 

- 1 -

When the six friends returned at the end of their leave,
Morningham told Trebor the Prismatic Council still hadn’t decided what to do
with him.

“There’ll be some politics involved, Dok, I can assure you
of that,” he told Trebor. Then he muttered, “Just not the ones they might be
expecting.”

Morningham left them with that cryptic message, from which
they drew little reassurance. Trebor resisted the urge to look deeper into
their instructor’s mind, instinctively trusting the Red paladin.

When they reached the barracks, they found offensive
messages scrawled all over the wall near where the six all slept. The other
trainees were gathered in little clusters about the barracks, peering at them
with no attempt at trying to look innocent or unconcerned.

“Get out, you filthy shad,” Trebor read aloud. “Drink
dugger’s
[15]
blood and die.”

“That’s a myth, you know,” Marc said. His voice sounded unnaturally
bright as they stared at the insulting messages. “It’s not really poisonous,
it’s just…”

“Marc,” Michael said, holding up a hand, “not now.”

“I was just…”

“Not now, booker,” Flasch said. Marc pressed his lips
together and glared at Flasch.

Danner heard a snicker from behind them, and his hands
clenched into fists. For one brief instant, he considered
asolving
his wings and throwing a few of them through the stone walls.
Let them laugh
then!
Danner thought savagely. He was shocked at his own vehemence. Then he
heard a sound that made him turn his head in wonder.

Trebor was laughing.

It started as a snort, then a chuckle, but soon enough
Trebor’s shoulders were shaking in suppressed mirth. Danner thought for a
moment his friend had cracked.

“
Treb
, are you okay?” Michael
asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“What? Oh, I’m fine,” he replied, smiling and wiping at his
eyes. “I was just laughing at myself and thinking how wonderful it is to be
surrounded by imbeciles without an original thought in their heads. Here I’ve
been worried all weekend what I would face when I got back, and I find it’s
nothing more than the same close-minded idiocy I’ve heard about and experienced
my whole life. You’d think I’ve never been called a shadow or a shad before. Sin
and San, it’s barely an insult anymore.”

Trebor continued laughing, and Danner couldn’t help but
smile, too. Trebor’s laughter was infectious, and in a moment all six of them
were laughing. The other trainees in the barracks were silent as they stared glumly
at the unexpected response to their actions. Looking at their sour faces only
made Danner laugh harder.

And so what began as a horrible start to their week instead
became a bright moment they could look back on and smile. They set to work
cleaning the wall, and periodically one or more of them would start chuckling
again. When they were finished, the room was cloaked with the shadows of the
night and the only message left on the wall was the first one Trebor had read
aloud. Trebor refused to let them scrub it clean.

“Just as a reminder,” Trebor said, his smile laced with
serious intensity.

Danner looked over his shoulder at the other trainees, many
of whom had since gone to sleep, then he looked back at the wall. “Right.”

The wall cleaned and their spirits raised, the six friends
turned in for the night and went to sleep.

- 2 -

Gerard Morningham stepped away from the peek hole in the
wall and walked away down the narrow corridor of the secret passage. For years
untold, instructors had used certain hidden passageways to watch their trainees
during off hours to see how they acted without the authority presence of an
instructor about. Very little escaped their notice, even the midnight
wanderings of the trainees like de’Valderat and
jo’Keer
.
Those were overlooked so long as nothing troublesome happened. Gerard had also
left instructions with the nighttime watchers to ignore the comings and goings
of those six on nights when they were working for him.