The Book of Deacon: Book 02 - The Great Convergence (49 page)

After sifting through the tools he had thrown
on the floor, he stood again. The sword was gone. In its place was
a single piece of paper, scrawled with a message:
Repair the
sword in seven days, keep what you learn as payment. Fail and lose
both of your prizes.

Reading the last line, he cast a panicked
look to a display case above the door to the rest of the workshop.
It was empty. It had held a small dagger. The first of Desmeres
pieces he had found. The techniques he had gleaned from it had
changed his life. The weapons he began to produce, pale imitations
at best, were head and shoulders above any other weapons for sale,
and he had still only scratched the surface. The subtler nuances
were still revealing themselves as recently as that month. He
turned back to his work table. The broken sword, the dagger, and
the notes were waiting for him. A chill wind swept past him again.
He sat at the table, hunched over his work as though guarding it
from grasping hands, and returned to his task.

Lain hurried back to the others. When he
reached where they had been waiting, he found only Ivy there. He
had suspected as much. Her arms were crossed and her brow furrowed,
an irritated frown on her face. It was clear to Lain why. Ether had
followed him, he had felt it. In some form or another, she had
watched as he performed his tasks. Had he the opportunity, he would
have put it to an end, but by the time he became aware, the need
for silence was too great.

"Show yourself," he demanded sharply.

The intense wind swirled together tightly
into her form and shifted to flesh again.

"Your skill is great, though I question your
actions," Ether stated.

"Why did you follow me?" he asked
sternly.

"In light of my recent difficulties, I felt
it necessary to illustrate to you the degree of my own prowess,"
she said.

"I told her not to, but she didn't listen to
me," Ivy huffed.

"I don't have time for this," Lain growled.
"The sun will come up soon. We need to find someplace more secure.
This will take time."

"There is a house on the north side of this
place. Charred and empty," Ether offered.

"You have seen it?" Lain questioned.

"I observed all that this town and the
surrounding mountainside has to offer a few moments after I had
shifted to the wind," she remarked.

"We shall see," Lain said. "Lead us there. On
foot."

Ether began to trudge through the deep snow
in her human form. The distance was short, but the wind and snow
made the travel slow. A heavier cloak coalesced about Ether's
shoulders. Her feet sunk into the snow in light boots and emerged
from the snow in heavier ones. She often removed the sensitivities
to cold and hunger that plagued the mortal form, but in truth the
windy form had taken most of what little strength she had restored.
She needed to settle into this familiar form for a few hours more
before attempting something like that again. It was with no small
measure of relief that she agreed to remain as she was.

The sparse buildings of the town became more
so, and a fair distance from them, just past the sign post of the
town, was indeed the remains of a sturdy house. Two walls still
stood, and though piled with snow and what remained of the roof,
the floor seemed fairly intact. Lain considered it. It was situated
such that the walls hid the rest of the ruins reasonably well, and
the distance from the road was considerable. It was not the ideal
place to hide, but they were not likely to find a better one. He
inspected further, revealing a hatch leading to a basement
comparatively untouched by the flames. With a nod, Ivy scurried
inside, followed by Ether.

The basement was shallow, as all were likely
to be in the rocky, frozen ground of the mountains. Light and snow
filtered through a corner of the floor above that had broken under
the weight of the wreckage. It looked as though this place hadn't
been touched since the fire. Lain crouched on the ground near the
center of the floor. Ivy imitated him. He slowly began to enter the
trance again, a task greatly eased by the lack of a constant,
blasting wind in his ears. As he did, Ivy wearily looked about. She
was still tired, but this new place interested her. There were
chests here and there, shelves piled with jars, some broken, some
intact. There was a mix of smells she didn't recognize. Slowly she
edged away from Lain and carefully opened a chest, mostly keeping
her eyes on him, fearful of a scolding.

When none came she began to look through the
contents. Old moldy blankets. She frowned and put them away. Trying
to get the smell out of her nose, she sniffed the air, something
catching her attention. Carefully, she followed the smell. Her
whole mind tingled as she drew in the scent. Ether watched.

"What is it now?" Ether asked.

"I smell . . . rosin," she said.

"Why do you care about that?" Ether
asked.

"I don't know . . . I . . . here it is!" Ivy
said.

Tucked far into the corner, under a shelf and
among a pile of other boxes, was a small case. She undid the latch
and opened it to reveal a violin. Her fingers fairly shook as she
pulled it from the case. She was transfixed by the sight of it.
There was a look on her face of clarity, of focus, of remembrance
that she had never shown before. Ether opened her mouth to object
as she plucked a string, but instead she kept her silence. Part of
her was interested in this behavior. More so, she was eager for the
reprimand that Ivy was certain to bring upon herself from Lain.

Lain slowly pulled himself from the young
trance to the sounds of quietly bending notes as her fingers
twisted at knobs and her ears flicked. The strings were quickly
coaxed into their proper tension. There was a skill behind her
motions. This was not new to her. The plucking was soft. Certainly
not audible above the whipping wind outside. For the moment, Lain
tolerated it. A few more deft twists and each string produced the
proper tone. She reached into the case and pulled out the bow and
rosin. Testing the string, she applied some of the rosin. The
serenity on her face was incredible. Finally she raised the bow to
the strings.

"That is enough," Lain warned.

She paid him no heed. The bow touched to the
strings and a long, soft, crisp note was drawn from them, then
another. Her movements were deliberate, and flawless. It began as a
slow, mournful, weeping melody. The song was barely above a
whisper. Steadily it grew brighter, quicker. Her fingers were
dancing on the strings. The yellow aura that had surrounded her
when she was laughing returned. A look of pure joy came to her
face. Again Lain felt the warmth in what remained of his wounds.
The intensity grew as the tune grew louder, and soon Lain feared
that if it grew any further they would be heard. He placed a hand
on her shoulder. She jumped.

"Lain, when did you wake up? Did . . . did
you hear me? I can do this! It feels right, it feels natural!" she
said. "Ether, did you see? Ether?"

Ether had a far away, almost horrified look
on her face.

"She is the . . . the artist, the prodigy
spoken of in the prophesy. One of the originals. Damn her. She is .
. . she was one of us," she said.

"What? What do you mean?" Ivy asked.

"The five original Chosen were created by the
gods. The swordsman, leader of men. The one with the blood of a
fox, master of all weaponry. Myself, unparalleled mystic being. The
strategist and tracker. The last was to be the artist and prodigy,"
she said, almost fearful of her words.

"And I'm the prodigy?" Ivy said.

"There is the possibility that this was among
the knowledge that was forced into your mind, but the effect it has
upon you . . . it is deeper by far than anything I've seen," she
said.

"So you've been treating me badly, and I am
just like you!" Ivy said.

"You are
nothing
like me. You could
never
be like me. All this means is that the foes we face
have the ability to turn a pure and perfect being into . . . you,
and when you die your replacement will be as useless as Myranda
was," Ether said.

"Hey . . . HEY!" Ivy objected.

"Quiet! Both of you!" Lain growled. "We will
be here until my sword is repaired. If the two of you will be at
each other's throats all of that time, something will have to be
done about it," Lain said.

Ivy shrunk away like a scolded child, sitting
in the corner, pulling her hood down over her eyes and pouting
until her weariness caused her to slowly drift off. Ether waited
patiently until the slow, regular breathing of sleep overtook her.
Lain was still awake.

"Rather cold. A fire might be useful. For the
two of you, of course," Ether suggested.

"We cannot risk the light or the smoke," he
said.

"If the light and smoke are a risk, I can
eliminate them," she offered.

Lain was silent for a time.

"It would be useful," Lain agreed.

Ether rose and gathered a few pieces of the
lumber. She took weakly to flame and took a seat on the pile. A
moment later the wood began to darken and warmth began to spread,
but the flames of her body sunk to wavering black and not a wisp of
smoke rose. Before long the basement was livable, even comfortable.
Lain did not reenter the trance. With his wounds healed, all that
remained was weariness, and he could cope with that well enough.
Ivy was deeply asleep, affording Ether as near as she was going to
get to a few moments alone with Lain.

"Why?" Ether asked.

Lain shifted his gaze to her but remained
silent.

"Why does this creature earn your affection
while I am denied it? I do not desire the feelings you squander on
her to be spent on me for my own sake, but for yours. It makes no
sense to cloud your mind with her. What about her could be
desirable that I do not possess tenfold?" Ether asked.

"She is of my kind. The two of us may well be
the last. I must protect her," he stated.

"She is not of your kind. I am. She has been
twisted and warped to resemble your kind. Indeed,
you
are
not of your kind. Not as you use the words, at least. You were not
born of malthrope parents. Your father was a god," she scoffed.

"I am what my life has made me, as is she,"
he replied.

Ether considered his words, swiftly
dismissing them as yet another symptom of the damage that his time
among the mortals has done to his perception of himself.

"The one you call Desmeres was near. I saw
him as I followed you. I cannot imagine that you were not aware,"
Ether remarked.

"I was," he replied.

"It surely was not a coincidence," she
added.

"It was not. He is in league with the
D'karon, posing as a Chosen and tasked with our capture," he
explained.

"And he still lives? You can no longer deny
that sentiment has robbed you of reason and good judgment," Ether
accused.

"For the time being he can be trusted to
serve his own interests before those of the D'karon. That means
leading them astray until the price they are willing to pay is high
enough to suit him. In the mean time, I have robbed him of his
means of locating me," Lain said, pulling the enchanted tooth that
had hung about Desmeres' neck from his cloak.

"Very well," she relented.

"Listen to me. I tolerate you because in
times of battle you fill a need that I cannot. You can deal out and
defend against mystic attack. It is for this reason alone that you
were not left behind. I do not require your advice. You need not
audit my decisions, dissect my reasoning, or judge my motivations.
Keep your critiques to yourself and I shall do the same," Lain
warned.

Ether chuckled. "I have attained a state of
perfection. I am intrigued what possible critiques you might have
for me."

Lain was silent.

"Speak," Ether demanded.

Lain drew in a deep breath.

"You were given almost limitless potential
and an eternity to hone it. That should have made you invincible.
Instead you wasted the time convincing yourself that you were
already
invincible. You continue to waste your power by
using every last ounce of it at every opportunity. Not every battle
needs to end in an ocean of flame. You can take the form of any man
or beast you choose, but in virtually all cases you choose instead
to spill off all of your strength funneling the wrath of the
elements. Myranda had the merest fraction of your strength and she
made it last. She achieved her task and still had enough left to
escape until this last battle. You finish each battle scarcely
better than Ivy. She, at least, has no control over it. You do it
on purpose. Perhaps worst of all is your squandered stealth. You
can appear to be a human until the instant you open your mouth,
rendering the skill all but worthless. How can you have existed
since the dawn of time and managed to stay ignorant of the behavior
of the most influential creatures in creation?" Lain fairly
ranted.

It was a rare showing of emotion. One that he
regretted immediately. It was pointless. Nothing he said would be
heeded. Ether remained silent. Lain pulled open the bag and ate his
share of the rations. The sun was rising. When the short day was
over he would find something to replace it. For now there was only
waiting.

Time passed slowly. Each of the trio had
learned to deal with waiting. In Lain's work, patience was quite
often the difference between success and failure. He spent his time
carefully analyzing all that his senses told him. Once, a small
group of D'karon passed through town, but they did not linger.
Desmeres had been true to his word. Ether was well accustomed to
waiting. She had found herself capable of nothing else for an
entire era. As for Ivy, her memories were filled with anxious
waiting for another torturous session. All she had to do was to
think about the fact that she was free from that fear forever and
the waiting seemed like bliss.