Glimmer in the Maelstrom: Shadow Through Time 3 (12 page)

‘No!’ Glimmer shouted.

Sparkles of glittering light enveloped the woman beneath his hand and she disappeared. Kert’s knuckles hit the rock wall, propelled by the momentum of the pressure he had been exerting on a throat that was no longer there. It took him several seconds to realise what had occurred. He turned to Glimmer, outraged. ‘What have you done?’

‘I sent her away. I hate her.’

‘Where have you sent her?’ If the woman was on Ennae, Kert swore he would kill Glimmer where she stood.

‘She is outside the caves. Forget about her’

‘The air is poisonous there.’

‘You were going to kill her anyway.’

‘I had not decided.’

‘Yes you had. I saw the …’ Glimmer trailed off, and then wrapped her arms across her chest. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she said.

‘As though I’d like to kill you next?’ Kert struggled to retain the threads of his temper. ‘Bring her back.’

Glimmer’s belligerent pout faded. She closed her eyes. ‘You like her better than me.’ She clutched her shoulders more tightly and turned away.

Kert was about to tell her that she must be more stupid than he had imagined if she thought she could woo him with this display of childish pique. But the woman’s time was surely running out. The mask he had ripped from her face would have been her protection. Without it she would be suffocating. ‘Bring the woman back now … or I will walk outside the caves and find her myself.’

Glimmer shook her head violently, snow hair spilling around her bare shoulders.

‘Very well,’ he said calmly, and stepped past her. But before he could exit the cave, sparkles of light rose from the floor in front of him then blinked out. The woman was back.

She was gasping and choking, deep hacking coughs that set even Kert’s eyes to watering.

He crouched beside her. ‘Repair the damage you have done,’ he commanded, and after only a moment’s hesitation on Glimmer’s part, the woman’s tensed body slumped back onto the ground, her breathing even. Her eyes were open but she was clearly exhausted from her ordeal. ‘That’s better,’ he said.

‘Why is it better?’ Glimmer demanded. ‘Why do you want her so badly? She is older than me and —’

‘Stop!’ Kert said, and rose to glare at his charge. ‘I do not … desire this woman.’ He couldn’t speak more plainly than that. ‘My only desire is to return to the service of my king.’

‘Perhaps it’s her attire,’ Glimmer replied, turning to the woman, recklessness hot in her eyes. ‘If she was more suitably dressed …’

Kert heard a gasp and saw yet another spray of sparkling light. He turned, ready to berate his charge anew, only, what he saw robbed him of breath. Their intruder had been stripped of her awkward uniform and reclined on plush cushions, wearing a collection of joined veils that revealed far more than they hid. Intricate silver jewellery adorned her fingers, toes and the edges of her scant coverings. Her short cap of hair had become long and lustrous, curving over her shoulders like a lover’s caress, and her skin glowed as though it were satin.

‘What have you done?’ he whispered, his anger evaporating into shock. Strangely, this new whim was more frightening than condemning the woman to death outside their cave.

‘She pleases you, doesn’t she?’ Glimmer demanded. ‘You desire her now.’ This was said not in satisfaction but almost fearfully.

Kert dragged his eyes from their confused intruder to his charge. ‘Are you mad?’

Glimmer’s chest again rose and fell in agitation. Her eyes would not meet his. ‘I am giving you what you want. You have shown no interest in me, so I can only assume that you desire an older woman.’ She challenged him with a glance. ‘You showed interest in this one. So have her. I leave you in privacy.’ With that, she marched back into their bathing cave.

Kert watched her leave, trying to grasp what he had just witnessed. The Catalyst had no difficulty manifesting clothing or moving a body around Haddash. Very likely she could return him to Ennae, and could possibly have done so at any time. It was equally clear that she could kill him in an eye-blink.

‘Happening?’ a small frightened voice said from behind him.

He turned back to look at the woman, then began unbuttoning his shirt.

‘No touch!’ she shrilled and scrabbled about herself for a weapon.

Kert was near the end of his patience. He unclasped the last button and shrugged out of his shirt, then threw it at her. ‘Cover yourself with this.’ Clearly Glimmer was the only threat, and this stranger may even be of assistance to him.

The woman snatched his shirt and pulled it over her head, yet even as she struggled with her newly long hair and the diaphanous veils bunching around it, the shirt disappeared. She gasped and crossed her arms over her breasts, as though fearful that all her clothing would evaporate. Kert watched her back up against the cave wall and pile cushions around her as a covering. They stared at each other in silence until she said, ‘How move me?’ and glanced around the cave. ‘Matter transfer? No machinery.’

‘I believe she merely needs to think a thing and it is done,’ Kert replied, gazing at the woman speculatively, trying to devise a plan to use Glimmer’s jealousy to his own advantage. ‘Her magic is strong,’ he warned.

‘Magic?’ The woman laughed in short, nervous barks. ‘No.’ She shook her head.

‘You do not believe what you see with your own eyes?’

‘Vision deceptive. Reports flying serpent …’ She trailed off, gazing back at Kert. ‘You spoke serpent.’

‘The Fire God who rules this world is a winged serpent.’

She shook her head. ‘No “God”. Outmoded construct delays emotion maturity.’

Kert did not understand her words but the disbelief in her eyes was plain enough. ‘Whether you accept it or not, the Fire God exists. We are fortunate that The Catalyst’s presence on this world prevents him from entering it.’

The woman raised an eyebrow. ‘Can’t prove?’

‘Nor should I bother,’ he said and turned away, tiring of her adversarial conversation. ‘Your ignorance is of no consequence to me.’

She was silent for a moment, then said, ‘Sorry. Start new. Name Darten 5.’

He turned back to look at her.

‘Fifth Darten my genealogy line.’

‘Kert Sh’hale.’

‘Offworlder.’ It wasn’t a question.

Kert crossed his arms and leant back against the cave wall. ‘I’m from the Earthworld of Ennae,’ he said, drawn into the conversation despite himself.

‘You fighter?’ She nodded at his knife, now back in its ankle sheath.

‘A royal Champion,’ he said, and was surprised at the surge of pride the words elicited. Though he had been born to nobility, Lord of the House Sh’hale, Kert had wanted nothing more than to champion a king. And that he had done to the best of his ability, although two kings had died under his protection. ‘And you?’ he asked to distract himself from that unpleasant thought.

‘Dometinter,’ she said.

Kert had no idea what this meant, but after much explanation and several hand pictures he understood that Darten worked on protecting her people from the sun of their world which was too fierce to be experienced directly. The domes were full of what she called ‘scientists’ who specialised in different tasks — filtering the air, growing plants ‘hydroponically’, extracting moisture from deep below the rock surface of their world. They knew nothing of the Maelstrom or the Fire God who ruled their world and so Kert told her what he knew and she made an effort to hide her scepticism. He found her clipped speech pattern difficult to follow, worse than The Light, Khatrene’s, had been on her return from Magoria, which apparently had many mechanical marvels. Was there a connection between mechanised societies and abbreviated dialogue?

‘Why here?’ Darten asked when the conversation lulled. ‘On my world?’

‘I am her captive,’ Kert replied, acknowledging the truth aloud for the first time. ‘She has brought me here, expecting … certain things.’ Any doubt of that suspicion had been conclusively laid to rest. ‘She will be disappointed.’

‘Things?’

He glanced away, embarrassed.

‘Sex?’ Darten said, and Kert felt his cheeks grow hot despite his best efforts at control. ‘Give her.’ Darten shrugged. ‘Whatever required. Survival paramount.’

Kert was a moment finding his voice. ‘I am her Champion. Besides, she is a child …’ But Darten was shaking her head and Kert knew he was lying. Glimmer wasn’t a child. She was a woman. Old enough to be married on Ennae. Old enough to join with a man.

Darten glanced over his shoulder in the direction Glimmer had gone. ‘She accept refusal?’

‘Probably not, but I may yet be able to sway her with reminders of her duty.’

‘Duty?’

‘Glimmer is to join this world with three others. Many people will die, but some will be saved. Life will go on, but only if she sacrifices herself.’

Both Darten’s eyebrows rose this time. ‘Her sacrifice?’ She shook her head. ‘She all self.’

‘I must convince her otherwise.’ But how? Glimmer had become a petulant tyrant but she was still the King’s niece and The Catalyst. Manipulating her with the pleasures of the flesh was too crude an idea to be entertained. But there were degrees of seduction. Could he not woo her with charm and flattery, thereby gaining mastery over her emotions and her will without recourse to … cruder measures? His swordsmanship had been renowned for its subtlety. If, in this dance of love, he could be likewise adept, appearing to fall under her spell while still holding her at arm’s length, he may win his freedom and still retain his honour. That was a challenge worth pursuing.

Darten, watching him, shook her head, but Kert was already beginning to plan how he would begin his campaign. He settled himself in his comfortable moss bed to watch over the Domedweller and ponder his options while he waited for Glimmer to return. Yet before he had even begun to relax, the ground beneath him began to tremble.

‘Cave fall!’ Darten called, sitting up. He saw her eyes wide and white in the gloom of the dimly illuminated cave, her hand scrabbling on the floor.

‘Stay where you are,’ Kert shouted, wondering if this was another sign of Glimmer’s anger. There had been nothing like this since their arrival on Haddash. ‘Unless the air outside has cleared, we must take our chances here.’

‘Years now, readings anomalous,’ Darten grunted as she crawled across the cave floor, hampered by her veils. She stopped and crawled back to her bed of cushions. Light flicked upwards in a beam and he realised she had retrieved her mechanical torch. ‘Something strange. Deep,’ she said, fiddling with the side of the metal stick and then setting its base down on the cave floor. Its light trembled on the rock ceiling.

‘What are you doing?’ At least she wasn’t trying to escape.

‘Measuring.’ She picked up the mechanical torch and looked at the side of it, frowned, and put it back down. The beam danced around and Kert marvelled at this light without apparent fire. Barrion of Verdan, the inventor among them, would be awed by this device. The second time Darten picked it up and inspected it she said, ‘Whole planet,’ her voice soft, as though with disbelief.

‘I don’t understand.’

She looked up at Kert. ‘Core rebound signal. Planet tearing.’ She shook her head. ‘Something there. Something … hot.’

‘There’s something at the core of this world, tearing it apart?’

She blinked then refocused on him. ‘Certain.’

‘How long?’ Kert said, unconsciously mimicking her clipped speech pattern.

She shook her head. ‘Days?’

If it had started before they arrived on Haddash it wasn’t of Glimmer’s making, but she could probably stop it. He hoped. ‘Wait here,’ he told Darten and rose awkwardly, taking a second to find his feet on the trembling floor. Dust and pieces of rock from the ceiling had begun to fall and he feared the whole cave would collapse on them.

‘Fast,’ Darten said, but before Kert reached the entrance to the bathing cave the tremors abruptly ceased.

He turned back to find Darten looking at her measuring torch again.

‘Stopped.’

‘I see that,’ Kert replied.

She looked up slowly, meeting his eyes with something akin to reluctance. Fear? ‘Not geological,’ she said. ‘Too … sharp.’

Kert frowned. ‘And it can’t be the Fire God,’ he said. ‘Not while The Catalyst is on this world. Something of the Maelstrom?’

She shook her head. ‘Not external.’

Not the Maelstrom or Glimmer. What then?

M
ihale sat quietly at the head of the table in the valour hall of the royal Volcastle. His first night back. The room was quiet and still, the revels ended, though in the distance a fearsome storm could be heard battering the mighty stone walls that protected them.

Not far away in the great hall, no ceiling covered the Volcastle mouth and it had been deluged with water from the sky. Mihale had no idea whether the fire that roared in its belly could be extinguished. And if it could, what that would mean. The anchor The Catalyst had installed in the Volcastle seemed impervious to the weather, and while it remained, Mihale had hope that the castle would survive the destruction around it.

Talis alone remained in the hall with his king, seated at his side, ready to escort him back to his chambers.

‘Your tankard is empty, Majesty,’ Talis said politely when Mihale caught his eye. ‘Would you have me refill it?’

‘Or should we retire?’ Mihale asked, gazing across at his Champion, seeing the familiar solidarity of form and personality. Talis was not handsome, yet neither was he ugly, and though they had not spoken of this matter since his awakening from death, Mihale knew that Khatrene loved Talis more than life. More than him.

Banish him if you would have her to yourself
, the voice inside his head said. Mihale ignored it and did not bother to hide his irritation at the intrusion. From the moment he had let the entity into his mind in return for it awakening his body from deathly slumber, Mihale had felt regret. Not regret to be returned to Ennae and his throne, but regret that he had let an unknown intruder into his mind where it could control his actions at will. Its obsession with the Plainsman memory stone had made Khatrene suspicious and Talis overly polite, which saddened Mihale. He felt so alone.

You appreciate my candour
, the entity said, and to illustrate Mihale’s lack of control the entity forced words from his mouth, ‘When you retire, Talis,’ Mihale said, ‘where is it you sleep?’

Talis was clearly startled by the question, but Mihale knew he would receive nothing but truth from him, and he hated the entity for torturing his friend.

‘With the woman I love, Majesty,’ Talis said softly.

‘Good,’ Mihale blurted in the second before the entity took control again and forced him to say, ‘Yet my sister told me before I was killed that you loved
her.
Is that true?’ Mihale’s hand rose to finger the talisman at his throat and he wondered why the entity insisted they keep it. He still couldn’t use it.

‘Majesty, yes,’ Talis replied solemnly. ‘With all my heart.’

‘Then what you are admitting,’ the entity went on, manipulating Mihale’s mouth though he struggled hard to regain control, ‘is that nightly you lie with my royal sister?’

He loves her
, Mihale railed.
Leave him alone.

‘Majesty, yes,’ Talis said, his face composed.

‘Interesting,’ Mihale heard himself say. ‘You understand that your actions contravene royal law? My sister cannot be prosecuted but you can.’

Talis stared at him mutely and Mihale could have cried for the look of desolation that came to his Champion’s eyes.

‘I will think on these matters. Bring the Plainsman to me,’ he commanded.

Despite his obvious concern for his own future, Talis said, ‘It is late. Majesty, and the Plainsman is old. He leaves on the morrow with The Dark’s party for Be’uccdha, thereafter to be returned to his people. If Your Majesty could wait until morning —’

‘He leaves?’ Mihale felt his forehead crease into a frown that matched his imperious tone. ‘I gave no permission for him to leave the Volcastle.’

Stop
! Mihale hissed within his own mind, knowing that only a blinding headache could prevent the entity’s manipulation of him.

‘Majesty, perhaps those of his party assumed he had received permission when … clearly he has not.’ It was none of Talis’s fault, yet by his tone he expected to be called to account for it, and that greatly distressed Mihale. He had lost the trust of his Champion.

‘Bring him now.’

Talis rose and left.

Mihale concentrated on amplifying the ache he had created behind his eyes. The entity had promised to take only a small corner of his mind, to live vicariously through him, yet now he controlled Mihale at will.

‘Majesty, the Plainsman Breehan,’ Talis said tonelessly when he had brought the shuffling old man to stand across the table from his king, blinking sleep from his eyes.

‘You were on Haddash with The Catalyst,’ the entity said through Mihale.

‘I was,’ Breehan replied in a voice worn thin by age. ‘Briefly.’

‘Stop staring at my talisman.’

Mihale watched the old Plainsman’s gaze rise to meet his eyes. ‘
Your
talisman?’

‘If you do not address me correctly,’ the entity said, ‘as “Your Majesty”, you will finish your days in a dungeon cell.’

‘My days are already over.’

Mihale’s body stood, and despite resisting with all his mental strength, his legs took him around the table to face Breehan. ‘Did The Catalyst take anything from Haddash? An oval artefact?’ Mihale indicated the size, about his shoulder width. ‘An egg you took there many years ago.’

What is this oval?
Mihale demanded.
Who are you?

‘Why are you interested in the Fire God’s child?’ Breehan asked, his gaze narrowing.

Mihale’s internal struggle ceased and his headache began to fade. Into its place flowed terror, like ice water down his spine. The Fire God of Haddash. An entity with the power to take another’s mind.

You need not fear
, the entity said, but Mihale was consumed with it. And guilt. How had he been gullible enough to let the Serpent God of Haddash into his mind? Evil now had royal power at its beck. He must destroy himself, quickly, before Kraal destroyed the kingdom through its king.

You will not
, the entity said, then to Breehan, ‘You do not have what I want.’

‘I know you,’ the Plainsman said in reply, looking deeper into Mihale’s eyes. ‘Old
friend.
Now I see how you acquired the talisman.’

Mihale felt his hand move but had no power to stop it grasping the dagger at his waist.

No!
he screamed, but there was nothing he could do, nothing Talis could or would do to stop his king stabbing Breehan in the chest. It was a slow, deliberate strike which the aged Plainsman had no agility to counter. Then, adding horror to already violent shock, Mihale’s wrist twisted the knife. Breehan was dead before his crumpled body hit the ground.

He would have revealed my presence
, the entity said to Mihale.
If it is known that you are possessed, you would be thrown into the Volcastle mouth. Is that what you want?

Yes!
Mihale shouted and he silently screamed to Talis,
I am possessed. Look into my mind.
But his mouth said, ‘The Plainsmen have always been enemies of the throne. And I will not tolerate disrespect.’

Talis nodded and said nothing.

‘Take him away. I will not require you again this evening.’

‘Majesty,’ Talis said tightly. Then with a tenderness that tore Mihale’s heart, he reached down and cradled the limp and bloody Plainsman in his arms before he bowed and left the hall.

Mihale felt sick enough to vomit.
What are your plans?
he demanded of the entity.

Nothing firm
, the voice replied.
I seek only to experience all that The Catalyst’s birth has offered me. New worlds to explore, new possibilities.

What possibilities?

Firstly, the possibility that if I remain within your body I may survive the Maelstrom.

Mihale would do all that he could to prevent that.
Is that what you need the talisman for?

It keeps The Catalyst from detecting my presence within you
, Kraal admitted.

That took a moment to sink in, then despite his predicament Mihale felt elation. Khatrene had been right. Glimmer was alive. The Four Worlds would be joined after all, and he must do all he could to ensure that the Fire God had no part in that process.

You have proved useless in manipulating the stone’s power,
Kraal said.
And I would not trust the Plainsman with it, yet soon its secrets will be mine.

Mihale felt sick premonition.
Talis would never
—

Correct. But there is another. I have set the play in motion. Soon he will come to me. Then I will have more power than The Catalyst herself.

Mihale could barely swallow. He was the foundation of all this. He had let Kraal enter his mind, given him access not only to a human form, but to royal power.

When Lae had come to speak of Lenid, the dear son he had never known, Mihale had hidden his possession from her and he cursed now that he had been successful. Her grief had obviously blinded her discernment. Still, he must try to see her again on the morrow and hope that this time she would discern the intruder in his mind and denounce him.

Kraal appeared to have complete power over him, yet Mihale would not surrender the fate of his sister and his people without a fight. All his actions would now be focused on revealing his possession or otherwise ending his own life, lest the whims of an evil God destroy what the Maelstrom could not.