CHAPTER TEN
Coming around with a definite sense that time had passed was becoming a habit. This time, however, it wasn’t Kaj who held a bowl of broth to Teg’s lips, but Meg.
“How are you feeling?”
Teg managed a few sips and a groan. Her head was buzzing—then she realized that at least some of the buzz came from Thought and Memory, who were lying on either side of her head and purring comfort.
“Aspirin, right?” Meg efficiently nursed two tablets, one at a time, into Teg’s mouth, making sure she swallowed a liberal amount of broth between each. “Here’s an update. You four opened the gate, though you and Vereez collapsed in the process. Kaj and Peg dragged you and Vereez on board, then Grunwold piloted Slicewind through before it closed. As to where we are . . . We’re not certain. Grunwold’s compass is spinning in all possible directions.”
Teg managed, “Xer? Ver? Kaj?”
“Xerak came around about an hour ago and, despite Peg’s and my protests, has dragged himself up on deck to confer with Grunwold. Vereez is just coming around. Kaj held up until the crisis was over, but he’s out cold. However, he is breathing steadily. He looks oddly content. It is perhaps not strange. Xerak says that Kaj is definitely a wizard—and one with solid potential, at that.”
Teg tried a nod. She wanted to say something about hoping Kaj would use his power for good, but it was too much. She considered drinking more broth but, instead, her thoughts muffled in cat purrs, she went back to sleep.
When Teg woke up, she didn’t feel great, but she felt capable of more or less falling out of the bed in the stern cabin and getting to the head. Thought and Memory were gone, so either they had gotten bored or it was feeding time back home.
When Teg emerged from using the toilet and washing her face, Peg was waiting for her.
“Lounge or more sleep?”
“Lounge. Food! Time?”
“You’ve been down and out for about eight hours.”
When they reached the galley, sliding onto the bench behind the table pretty much exhausted Teg’s store of energy. Peg filled Teg’s favorite poffee bowl, then set about preparing a simple but nourishing omelet. After confirming that Teg’s headache was no longer so severe that it made listening painful—Peg also dished up the latest news.
“The good news is that we now are pretty certain we know where we are. The bad news is that it’s not where we hoped to be—or not quite. Remember the stormy peaks we saw in the Font’s vision? We’re above those. If we go lower, the lightning develops intent. Actually, it turns into something like dragons. And tries to eat us. Right now, Xerak and Grunwold are attempting to figure out how to deal with that. Meg’s with Vereez, who is in the middle of a major crying jag. Kaj woke up long enough to drink about a quart of broth, then he passed out again.”
The poffee tasted great, but it also made Teg’s stomach queasy. She tried a few mouthfuls from the omelet Peg slid in front of her. These tasted excellent, liberally flavored with butter, and Teg’s stomach rapidly agreed to let her eat more. Teg was augmenting eggs with bites of a light, fluffy biscuit, and Peg was cleaning the pan, when Meg came in.
“Glad to see you’re doing better, Teg. Peg, do we have hot water?”
Peg motioned to the kettle set on a warmer, and Meg set about brewing something in a small mug.
“For Vereez. She’s a wreck, poor child, and I can’t say I blame her. Apparently, her contact with Kaj was very much like sexual intercourse. He made his connection into your magical workings by exploiting their previous connection and, since that was sexual, that’s what he used.”
“He’d raped her?” Peg asked, outraged.
“Not in the least,” Meg said primly. “The connection goes back to when they were lovers. On some levels, Vereez still wants them to be lovers. Surely, you’ve heard of divorced couples—even acrimoniously divorced couples—who fall back into bed again, sometimes repeatedly.”
Peg suddenly became very intent on scrubbing the frying pan.
Meg went on. “If Kaj committed a fault, it was that he exploited Vereez’s desire for him, but even Vereez admits this wasn’t intentional. Kaj saw the spell was failing. He sensed a link—and he used it. What has Vereez so badly shaken is that, as the spell was breaking apart, she realized this—and realized that while Kaj has a sort of mild affection for her, he does not care for her at all, not even, particularly, as a sexual partner.”
“Ouch!” Teg said. “That’s rough.”
“Xerak gave me something that should calm her,” Meg said, lifting the tea she’d been brewing. “Although he was reluctant to do so. He says all of us need to be alert.”
“Well, Xerak’s just going to need to be patient with Vereez,” Peg said bluntly.
Teg nodded. “I felt Kaj’s aura, I guess you’ve got to call it. He’s sex: sex and rock ’n’ roll. He didn’t just connect to Vereez because they were lovers, though. It was because she carried Brunni—basically, his ‘blood’ and hers mingled in a creative fashion. Vereez is probably shaken by that, too.”
“Because there is a link that cannot be denied?” Meg mused. “Yes. I can see that. Well, let me bring her this tea. I’ll sit with Vereez until she goes to sleep and maybe after, in case she has nightmares.”
“I’ll spell you,” Peg said. “I have knitting to keep me occupied. Maybe I’ll try singing to her.”
“That would be lovely. Get Teg fortified first.” Meg paused and patted Teg gently on one cheek. “You did very well, my friend. I’m immensely proud of you.”
Teg blinked, confused, but waited until Meg was out of hearing before asking, “Proud? Of me? Why?”
Peg chuckled. “Oh . . . Maybe because Miss Commitment Shy of the Century—and I may extend that back into the twentieth as well as into the twenty-first—has shown she can make a life-or-death commitment if she chooses. Maybe just because you looked so cool down there.”
Teg laughed uncomfortably, but she felt pretty good as well. After a second bowl of poffee, she hauled herself up the ladder to where Grunwold and Xerak were conferring near the wheel.
Slicewind hung “at anchor,” a light breeze rippling the sails. In the distance, the lightning-shrouded peak was doubly dramatic—the only visible feature in a vista that was otherwise a deep void of starless indigo into violet skies.
“Salvador Dali would approve,” Teg said, by way of greeting.
“Peg said something similar,” Grunwold agreed, “and also something about the scene looking like an ‘Affirmation cover.’”
“Affirmation?” Teg chuckled as she lowered herself onto the nearest bench. “Oh! I bet she meant ‘Yes.’”
“Isn’t that what I said?” Grunwold asked, then shook his head. “Translation spell must have missed something.” He lowered his voice, although there was no real need. “How’s Vereez?”
Teg shrugged. “Meg just brought her Xerak’s brew. Xerak probably knows better than I do.”
“If Vereez drinks it, she’ll sleep,” Xerak replied, pushing a stray strand of mane out of his eyes. “How she’ll be when she wakes up, though . . . That’s up to her. And if she doesn’t want to be all right, that’s a problem because, well—we need her.”
Teg reached for her cigarette pack, realized she didn’t have a craving except for something to do with her hands, and settled for pulling out her pipe and starting to clean the bowl.
“Why Vereez specifically?”
Xerak sighed. Teg guessed he really wanted a drink, but he wasn’t going to take one. As a gesture of wordless solidarity, she put her pipe away and gave him her full attention.
Xerak gestured toward the distant mountain. “Grunwold and I have confirmed that mountain is indeed the location we saw in the Font of Sight. You can’t see them bare-eyed but, with a good telescope, you can even spot the doors.”
“The problem,” Grunwold said, “is that we can’t get around the lightning shadows.”
Teg listened and heard a word that sounded something like oehen-serit, although her brain insisted Grunwold had said “lightning shadows.”
“Lightning shadows?”
Grunwold nodded. “Don’t you have them in your world? They’re creatures who live in electrical storms. Thunder is said to be the sound of their passing through the sky.”
Teg thought about trying to explain about what thunder “really” was, realized she didn’t quite know herself, except that it had something to do with how the electricity moved through the sky, and shrugged.
Maybe “lightning shadows” is a literal translation of what he’s saying, a description that has become a name. Maybe that’s why the translation spell let it pass.
“We have stories, lots of stories,” Teg said, “that explain the sound of thunder, but I don’t think anyone takes those literally. Are you saying that in this world there are actually creatures that are responsible for the sound of thunder?”
“Sure,” Grunwold replied, looking at Teg as if she’d questioned the reality of trees or rocks. “They’re hard to see, but they live in the heart of storms, breathe lightning, and produce thunder.”
“Lightning shadows are very difficult to control,” Xerak added, “as you might expect, but sometimes wizards use them as guardians or defenses. Attracting lightning shadows is most easily done in an area where—or at a time of year when— storms gather. The tops of mountains are prime nesting locations.”
Grunwold gestured toward the floating mountains. “Xerak’s guess is that the spell written on the letter was intended to carry us inside the defenses, maybe even through the door. But . . .”
Xerak interrupted him. “But I screwed up. Even after Kaj threw his mana into the mix—an incredibly stupid thing for him to do; he could have been killed—we could have broken off the spell and tried again. Or we could have come back after you all had more training. However, once I felt all that additional power, I tried to punch through. My ‘fix’ wasn’t quite right. It opened a gate, sure, but that gate took us here—on the wrong side of the lightning shadows.”
“Can we just go back”—Teg gestured vaguely to indicate “back”—“and redo the spell?”
“We need to do the spell all over again to go back,” Xerak explained, shaking his head. “And right now, we don’t have the mana. I’m not even certain the spell would work from this end. The way it was set up, the final step was tapping the vortex where the ley lines met, then using that to shove us through the gate.”
“Is there a vortex here?” Teg asked.
“Sure,” Xerak said, pointing with the tip of his spear staff in the direction of the floating mountain. “There. I can’t imagine that the lightning shadows would hold still and politely watch while we went through the stages of a complex working.”
“So, we’re stuck here,” Teg said, “until we find a way to deal with the lightning shadows.”
Grunwold nodded. “So it seems. We could try sailing around this void and look for somewhere to port but, as you can see”—he indicated the limp sails—“there isn’t a lot of wind here, and the strongest currents are . . .”
“Let me guess,” Teg cut in, “near that floating mountain.”
“I’ve been contemplating options,” Xerak said, sliding his hand restlessly up and down the polished wood of his spear staff. “One option is for a couple of you humans to go back to your world, then try to return somewhere else in our world—the Library of the Sapphire Wind would be best, because we have allies there and it’s possible the repository would have tools you could use. Meg would probably have the best chance of getting there, since she has a strong tie to Sapphire Wind. If the repository didn’t have anything useful, you could then go to Zisurru University, explain the problem, and ask for help.”
“That might work,” Teg conceded, “especially if you went with Meg, since you’re a wizard and could work travel spells if needed. You’re also an accredited graduate of the university. But I’m guessing that you don’t want to leave when you’re so close to your goal.”
Xerak nodded. “I’m also the most skilled wizard of our company. If I left, Slicewind would be at great disadvantage, both offensively and defensively.”
“We could all leave this place via our world,” Teg suggested. She saw Grunwold stiffen. “Except that you don’t want to leave Slicewind. I can understand that.”
“I’d do it,” Grunwold said, although he sounded as if he was agreeing to having his antlers pulled off, “if that was our only option, but there are a lot of ‘ifs’ involved in using your world as an in-between point, including whether Meg could reach the Library if none of us were there, or even if, without one of us inquisitors to act as anchor, you mentors could get back to our world at all.”
Teg considered. The one good thing about their situation was that they didn’t need to worry about supplies. Thought and Memory showing up to check on her confirmed that the link between the three mentors and their home world was still available to them. Still . . .
“Wait! When I first came up on deck, Xerak said something that made it sound as if he thought Vereez could solve some of our problems. What did you mean?”
Xerak stood and started pacing, his tail lashing back and forth. “When we were connected through the spell, I sensed that you were aware of me and Vereez as if we were other than the physical selves you see here.”
“Yes. You felt like fire. Vereez felt like a wind. Later, Kaj felt like, well, floodwaters . . .”
She and Xerak exchanged glances that said, “Among other things,” but out of consideration for Grunwold, they didn’t voice their shared impression.
“And you,” Xerak said, “feel like earth—more specifically, like stone. It’s overly simplistic to say that all wizards have an element that they are associated with. That’s how the nonmagical see it. More accurate is to say that each and every wizard has an element that they can manipulate with greater ease. Mine is fire. Yours would be earth.”
“Earth makes sense for an archeologist,” Teg quipped. “I’ve manipulated enough of it in the course of my career.” Then she sobered. “And Vereez’s element would be air, wind . . . lightning?”
“That’s right,” Xerak said. “If anyone in our number can convince those lightning shadows to let us pass, it’s going to be Vereez. But when I checked on her earlier, I saw that something has caused her to pinch off her connection to her magic.”
Teg frowned. “You know as well as I do what has made Vereez react this way. Stop protecting Grunwold. He’s no idiot.”
Xerak looked at his friend, but Grunwold cut him off before he could speak.
“It’s Kaj,” Grunwold said bluntly. “Or rather what Kaj did. I’m no wizard, but I saw him down there, holding on to her, pushing against her like he was mounting her standing. I . . .”
He curled his hands into fists, bent his antlered head as if he wanted to batter through something, then sighed. “I would like . . .”
He didn’t get to finish what he would like because, at that moment, Kaj’s wild-dog head thrust up through the hatchway. He looked like the last day of a three-day binge, his eyes bloodshot, his reddish-brown and tan fur sweat-matted.
“I didn’t know I’d mess her up so badly,” Kaj said, struggling to get up through the hatch. Xerak went over and pulled him up. “I swear on whatever you’d like—my newfound power, my unknown father. Here’s why I did it. I saw the spell trying to take over. I saw reality beginning to crack. Maybe you didn’t, but that’s what was happening.”
“I believe you,” Teg said.
Xerak nodded. Grunwold only stared.
“And I saw that Xerak was struggling to hold it all together, but he was going to lose it. I went over the side, meaning to grab onto him like Teg and Vereez were doing. Then I saw, felt, tasted—I don’t have the words for what happened to me—that I could more easily send the mana through Vereez, because she was connected to him, and there was a connection between her and me. And there was no time to waste, and so I did.”
Kaj slumped down onto the deck, put his head between his knees. “And I’m sure you all hate me and I don’t blame you, but that’s the real truth—at least as I saw it.”
Teg repeated softly, “I believe you.”
Xerak nodded. Then, realizing Kaj couldn’t see the gesture, said, “I believe you, too.”
He looked at Grunwold, clearly expecting him to say something scathing.
But although Grunwold’s fingers tightened on the spokes of Slicewind’s wheel, his words were no more than usually gruff. “I believe you, too, Kaj. But that doesn’t change that the damage was done. Vereez is—to borrow a word I bet’s just all too appropriate—seriously fucked up right now. And she’s the one we need if we’re to continue on to find Xerak’s master—maybe if we’re going to get out of this alive.”
Teg went below to brief Meg and Peg, both of whom she found sitting at the pulldown table in the lounge, near the galley.
“Vereez insisted on being left alone,” Meg explained, “and I decided to respect that. At least she’s no longer trapped in a crying jag.”
Teg was just finishing bringing her friends up to date on what Kaj had said when there was a soft rapping and Vereez poked her nose around where the door to her room intersected with the galley.
“May I join you?” she asked shyly. “I heard you talking.”
“Sure,” Peg said, pushing herself up from the table and moving to get another chair. “Sit here, next to me.”
“Thanks,” Vereez said. “I’m going to get some poffee. Can I fill anyone else’s bowl?”
“Sure,” Teg said.
“I’m fine,” Peg said, and Meg nodded that she was as well.
After Vereez had seated herself, Meg said, “You didn’t drink Xerak’s concoction.”
Vereez shook her head. “I started to, but then I was reminded of Ohent, how she dealt with her problems by taking various potions. I didn’t want to be like her, especially because Kaj . . .”
She stopped, lapped up some poffee.
“Kaj wouldn’t think much of you?” Peg finished into the silence. “He seems pretty patient with his mother.”
“I don’t want him to lump me in with her,” Vereez said.
Teg listened with dread for the note of hysteria to enter Vereez’s voice, or for tears to pool in the dark-brown eyes, but Vereez’s voice remained steady, her eyes clear.
“I’m sorry about how I acted,” Vereez said. When Peg started to say something soothing, Vereez raised one hand to forestall her. “I know I had good reasons to lose it. Believe me. I’ve been doing nothing these last several hours but telling myself how abused I am, how nothing has gone right, not since, well . . .”
Peg grinned. “Since the three of us showed up at Hettua Shrine, rather than the ideal mentors you had imagined?”
“Well, yeah.” Vereez managed a slight self-deprecatory smile, melting down her ears as she did so. Then she shook her head and perked her ears. “But that’s completely stupid. It’s obvious from everything that has happened that you three were somehow meant to be our mentors. At the very least, we would never have been able to retrieve the part of Ba Djed that was in your world, and that’s really the least part of it. So, when I say I’m sorry, I mean it.”
Meg replied, just a little primly, “Nonetheless, I understand your reaction. This was not how the story was supposed to go. You were supposed to find a mentor who would not only lead you to Brunni and Kaj, but help you to cause them to love you, to be impressed by you.”
“Yeah,” Vereez said softly. “Instead, Brunni has a ‘mom’ she really loves and trusts. At best, I’ll be like an aunt to her, which is crazy weird, because her mom is my aunt. And Kaj . . . I’ve been in love with him since I was fourteen. He was supposed to love me, to be pining for me, and I kept hoping that was true but he was just hiding it, but after that . . . After he . . .”
She took a deep, ragged breath and managed, “After the connection we experienced during that spell, I can’t fool myself. Kaj doesn’t love me. Right now, he doesn’t even like me very much. I’m everything he grew up despising: privileged, spoiled, indulged. You know what’s the worst part of it?”
The three mentors waited for her to speak.
“My being in love with him is the thing Kaj likes least about me. He thinks I was stupid, that instead of making up involved romantic stories to excuse his not answering my letters, not trying to see me, that I should have gotten on with my life, used all the advantages I was handed at birth to make something of myself. He’s not even sure he believes I wanted to find Brunni for herself. He thinks it’s just part of this complicated romantic epic I’ve created to justify my stupidly throwing myself at him.”
Again, when Peg started to say something, Vereez held up a staying hand.
“And the worst thing is, he’s probably right. That’s what hit me so hard. Not the mana depletion after the spell, not even his not loving me. It’s that the last five or so years of my life have been a lie I told myself so I could accept that I flung myself at a hot guy and got knocked up. That’s it.”
“I think you’re being a bit hard on yourself,” Peg said, “but that’s acceptable, especially if it serves as a starting point to moving past what’s been holding you back. The real question is what are you going to do with yourself now?”
Teg added, “How much of what I told Meg and Peg did you overhear?”
“Just about all of it,” Vereez admitted, looking more sheepish than someone with a fox’s head should be able to do.
“So, you realize that Xerak thinks you’re the only one who can get us around the lightning shadows.”
Vereez shook her head, not rejecting that she’d heard, but rejecting Xerak’s assessment.
“I think Xerak’s underestimating himself. I’m not saying I don’t have an affinity with air. That would be denying what’s obvious but, when I was in school, our teacher stressed that too much importance was placed on affinities, that a trained wizard with no affinity at all was often far better than someone with an affinity, even after training. People with affinities too often cut corners, take shortcuts, trust to instinct.”
Peg’s lips shaped a cynical smile—or maybe she was just counting stitches. Once Vereez had settled at the table, she’d pulled out her knitting.
“This is the same instructor who downplayed your own magical gift?” she asked too sweetly. “Perhaps this person’s testimony is not to be trusted.”
Vereez’s ears flickered, as if hearing an unexpected sound. “Xerak hinted at something similar, but I wasn’t in the mood to listen. You mean, my tutoring might have been meant to keep me from exploring my potential magic?”
“Was he a private tutor or someone giving group lectures?” Peg asked.
“He was the general lecturer at my academy,” Vereez said, “but my parents hired him as my tutor as well.”
“Then I’d definitely take whatever he said with a healthy dose of suspicion,” Peg said. “Although I suspect there is some truth in what he said. It’s true of most things. Those with raw talent often do take shortcuts, and sometimes that’s to their detriment later on. But we’re getting off the subject.”
Teg cut in. “Vereez, I think there’s something else you need to consider before you completely reject taking charge of getting us around the lightning shadows. You keep talking about Xerak as if he’s perfect. Did it ever occur to you that maybe he doesn’t trust himself to manage this?”
“But Xerak’s incredibly talented!” Vereez retorted. “Maybe you don’t realize how amazing it is for someone of his age to have been fully accredited as a wizard.”
Teg found herself getting unexpectedly angry. “Xerak is also badly shaken by his failure to get us where we were supposed to go—even with the power of three others and the vortex to bolster his spell. Add on to that how he’s within reach of the master he’s been searching for for over a year, and he’s about to fail. Xerak hasn’t started drinking again, but I think that’s only because he’s worried what will happen to the rest of us.”
She bit her lip before the next words—about how maybe Kaj was right and Vereez was nothing more than a spoiled, indulged daughter of wealth and privilege. Perhaps anticipating those unspoken words, Meg put a warning hand on her arm. Peg’s needles stopped in their rhythmic clicking.
Vereez’s ears flattened to her skull, then slowly perked erect. “I get why you smell so angry. I was only thinking about how I’d feel if I failed. I wasn’t thinking about how Xerak must be feeling. I’m still not sure I can figure out how to manage the lightning shadows myself, but then again—I don’t need to, do I? Xerak wasn’t ashamed to ask for help. That’s what I need to do—ask Xerak how I might help us to handle these lightning shadows.”
“Good girl,” Peg said resuming her knitting. “Why don’t you run up topside and tell Xerak that? I’m sure he’ll be relieved beyond belief. Teg, you go with her. I wouldn’t be surprised if a conclave of you wizardly types will be convened.”
Vereez dashed away with a speed that showed how much she feared that delay would give her indecisiveness an excuse to return. Teg pushed herself to her feet to follow.
“Thanks, Meg.”
“For what?” Meg looked up at her, eyes all pale-blue-crystal innocence, lips a light rose bow that shaped just the faintest smile.
“For being so cool . . . and for helping me keep mine.”
The conclave of “wizardly types,” rapidly morphed into a general counsel with all hands on deck.
“The lightning shadows get agitated when we’re about two tenths of a mile away,” Grunwold explained, indicating the distant activity with a wave of one arm.
He’d turned the wheel over to Peg and was standing in Slicewind’s bow with Vereez, using the ship’s most powerful telescope to inspect the insubstantial creatures. Xerak stood nearby, alongside Kaj, who was within easy hearing distance, but very obviously taking care not to crowd Vereez.
Teg had studied the lightning shadows through both Slicewind’s telescope and various sets of binoculars, but she still couldn’t decide what they looked like. They were dark—not black, but that deep indigo-violet that is somehow darker than actual black. There was something feline/lupine about them, but that was more the fluidity and strength of their motion. Dragon? Maybe, but, if so, the Chinese type—possessing a raw ferocity that those usually lacked. These creatures elongated and contracted like shadow did, shapeshifting in motion as if reacting to a light that shone on them, but nowhere else.
“The lightning shadows start stalking toward us when we get to about a tenth of a mile out,” Grunwold continued.
“And if we back away?” Vereez asked.
“They do, too. But they keep watching until we’re about a quarter mile out. Then they—well, it’s hard to say ‘relax’ about creatures that spit lightning and shit thunder—but they stop being as focused on the ship.”
“I can feel the storm,” Vereez said, closing her eyes and breathing evenly.
“What do you feel?” Xerak asked.
“You can’t tell?” Vereez asked, apparently not certain if he was humoring her, or prompting her, teacher style.
“If you mean, ‘Can I feel what you feel?’” Xerak replied with the edge of a growl to his voice. “No, I can’t. Not unless we’re tied into a spell, and then only when you’re providing me with mana. If you mean, ‘Can I feel the storm?’ No. I can’t, not this far out. It’s very contained, centered on that mountain peak.”
“Sorry,” Vereez replied. “I’m having a hard time accepting that a sense I’ve taken for granted all my life isn’t something like—well, seeing or hearing or tasting.”
“It isn’t,” Grunwold said, bopping her lightly between the ears with two fingers. “But it does explain why you always managed to get in ahead of the rain, leaving me and Xerak to get soaked. So, spill. What does the storm feel like? Any thoughts as to how we can get through it?”
Vereez elbowed him, then ducked out of reach of an ear tug. “If you promise not to laugh at me or say ‘Are you sure?’ I do have an idea.”
Grunwold rolled his eyes, but Teg thought he was enjoying himself. “Promise.”
Vereez moved to where Meg had seated herself on a coil of rope, since the bow area didn’t have as many benches as did the area behind the mast. “Can I borrow a blank page of your journal and a pencil?”
Meg handed over the entire journal, inserting a pencil to bookmark a blank back page. Vereez sat cross-legged on the deck, then spent a few minutes sketching, erasing, and sketching again. When she was satisfied, she handed the journal to Meg, who glanced at the drawing, nodded, and passed it to Grunwold, who passed it to Peg, taking the wheel back from her in the process. When everyone had a chance to look at the sketch, Vereez accepted the journal and held up the sketch as she talked.
“What I’ve drawn there is the storm as I see it—except ‘seeing it’ is a poor way to explain. Still, it’s best as I can do right now. Since the rest of you can’t see storms, I’d better start by saying that this formation isn’t normal. Storms don’t coil like springs around mountains. See how I’ve drawn the winds as dashes of different lengths, rather than solid lines? That’s the only way I could think of to show how various air currents have been forced into place.”
“So that’s not a solid wall of wind,” Xerak said, “no matter how it feels to us when we try to take Slicewind in.”
“That’s right,” Vereez replied. “I think that I might be able to force the ‘spring’ apart along the dashes. If I did that, then Grunwold could slide Slicewind through the gap. But there’s the small problem of the lightning shadows.”
At her mention of “small” Grunwold started to snort derisively, stopping himself with such violence that Teg half expected the air to come puffing out his ears.
“Any insights as to how we might handle them?” Xerak asked. “Whether or not the lightning shadows cause thunder is moot. We’ve been watching them long enough to confirm that their primary attack is a controlled lightning bolt. Slicewind couldn’t survive many of those—and her passengers couldn’t handle even one.”
Grunwold nodded. “Slicewind is fitted with a lightning rod on the mast. Don’t ask me how it works, because I don’t know, except that if it’s hit, the lightning is somehow dispersed through the hull and is then discharged. However, I don’t think the lightning rod will hold up to repeated strikes so, if those lightning shadows can direct their force, we’re screwed.”
Vereez muttered something in a very soft voice, but although Teg bet no one—not even the sharp-eared locals—understood a word, it was enough to draw all attention to her.
“Excuse me, dear?” Meg asked. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
Vereez squared her shoulders. “I think I can do it. I think I can catch the lightning bolts and throw them back—or at least divert them.”
Everyone stared at her, then Peg managed a somewhat strangled sounding, “That would be lovely, dear. Could you explain in more detail?”
“Hang on. I’ll need my swords.” Vereez ducked below decks and emerged wearing the belt from which hung her twin swords. As she slid one from its scabbard, Teg was struck anew by the burnished copper of the blade.
“With these,” Vereez said. “I think I can do it with these. I think that they’re meant for this sort of work.”
Grunwold interrupted her. “I know I said I wouldn’t say this . . .”
Kaj cut him off. “So I will. Vereez, are you really suggesting that you’ll go head on with those lightning shadows?”
She looked squarely at him. “Do you think that makes me as crazy as Ohent?”
“I am becoming less convinced my mother is crazy,” Kaj countered. “Sleep deprived, beset by visions, but not crazy. Leaving her out of it . . . No. I don’t think you’re crazy, but I do think you’re being brash. You’ve only had those swords a few months. Now you’re going to use them to parry bolts from lightning-spitting monsters?”
“If no one else has a better plan,” Vereez shot back. “That’s exactly what I was going to suggest. I’ll stand in the bow, right at the front. The lightning shadows seem to have distinct territorial boundaries. When they come at us, I’ll intercept their attacks. One reason I drew that picture is that I was hoping that if I was occupied with the lightning shadows, Xerak might take on the task of pulling apart the wind veil so Slicewind can squeeze through. If Xerak’s guess is correct, the lightning shadows have been told to protect against intruders. I suspect that once we’re inside, probably within that same two tenths of a mile limit, then we’ll be safe. Otherwise, the summoning spell dropping someone inside the ward wouldn’t be of much use, would it?”
Silence, then Teg heard herself saying, “We could pick an area where the lightning shadows are more thinly clustered for our entry point. Even better, we could divert them by coming in close on one side of the mountain, then pulling back, and coming in fast on the opposite side. In that case, Vereez would only need to deal with a couple of attackers.”
“After the lightning shadows have clustered, they do take a while to spread out again,” Grunwold admitted. “But I’d feel better about this plan if we had some evidence that Vereez can actually catch and parry lightning.”
Xerak stroked his chin. “I can help with that. I know a minor lightning spell—it’s meant for nudging creatures you don’t necessarily want to hurt permanently. It’s low enough power that, if any of the charge gets through, it’ll just frizzle her fur a bit.”
Grunwold nodded. “I remember that spell. You used it on the draft lizard we disturbed that night when . . . Well, anyhow. You used it on the draft lizard. It isn’t anything like the force those things are throwing, but if Vereez can’t parry even your little bitty bits of lightning, we can make another plan.”
“I’m game,” Vereez said with a show of bravado. “Let’s try.”
“Not,” Meg said firmly, “today. You, Teg, and Kaj are barely recovered from your last magical excesses. Xerak is doing better because he has a lot more training. We’ve had a busy day. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”
Her words were so sensible that no one argued, although Xerak looked as if he wanted to.
Early the next morning, they cleared a portion of the foredeck for the experiment. Xerak rattled off a rapid incantation, then something blue-white and about the size of a golf ball shot from his cupped hand toward Vereez’s chest. Vereez parried with ease, rolling the ball lightning down the blade, where it vanished into the metal.
“Excellent!” Xerak said, after they’d repeated this routine several times. “This time, see if you can throw the lightning back at me. Don’t worry about hurting me, just do it.”
Vereez flattened her ears in concentration. “Ready, coach!”
Xerak tossed another blue-white sphere. After catching the glowing golf ball, Vereez snapped the blade at Xerak, as if trying a conventional sword strike, although he was well out of range. A marble-sized ball shot back toward Xerak, who stabbed it to frizzle away on the tip of his spear staff.
“So, both defense and offense,” Xerak said. “Very useful. How do you feel?”
“Wobbly. Excited. Like I want to do it again.”
“Fine. Let’s keep practicing,” Xerak said.
“Won’t doing that spell wear you out?” Vereez asked. “Remember, my plan was to have you handle creating an opening for Slicewind. You can’t do that if you’re beat.”
“That’s why we practice now,” Xerak said. “I’ll be fine. This isn’t even touching my reserves.”
Grunwold took advantage of the short lull to cut in. “I like Teg’s idea about diverting the lightning shadows away from where we’re actually planning to attempt to get through. I suggest we choose the side of the mountain opposite from the door. I’ll sail Slicewind over and make a few feints so the lightning shadows think—if they do think—that’s where we’re going to punch through. Meantime, you two practice until one of you falls over. While you sleep, Peg can take the helm while I rest. Then we make our attempt when we’re all . . .”
“Except for me,” Peg quipped.
“. . . rested.”
“Better than letting Vereez try something so dangerous without any practice,” Kaj said, “though what she’s planning to try is still risky.”
Teg leaned to punch him on the shoulder. “Then, fellow apprentice, maybe you and I should figure out what we can do to raise the odds in our favor.”
* * *
“Closing to three tenths of a mile . . . Two tenths . . . One.” Meg’s voice, calm and controlled, despite the fact that she had to shout to be heard over the omnipresent thunder, provided updates from her vantage in Slicewind’s crow’s nest. “The lightning shadows are reacting as anticipated and gathering into a tight cluster.”
At the helm, Grunwold made finicky manipulations to the wheel, slowly bringing Slicewind around so her side, rather than her bow, faced the approaching lightning shadows. His task was made even more complicated because he was also maintaining the ship’s position at the very edge of the sensitive reaction boundary.
Vereez waited poised in the bow. The rest of the ship’s crew were scattered at various posts on deck, waiting for the race against light and shadow to begin. Teg and Kaj held the lines for the rarely used secondary sail.
Meg shouted, “Grunwold! The lightning shadows in the lead are heading toward us!”
Teg tightened her grip on the line. Behind her, Xerak held a sack holding one of their stored winds. At his nod, Peg ripped open the release, while Xerak spoke a few pungent syllables that directed a steady stream of wind into the sails.
Teg was glad she had grabbed hold before because, even with Kaj’s muscular arms bulging as he steadied the sail for maximum effectiveness, the line still slipped through her gloved hands before she tightened down and got a solid hold. Spinning the wheel with careful control, Grunwold brought Slicewind around, driving the ship outside the two tenths of a mile limit, so the lightning shadows wouldn’t be compelled to chase, skirting the invisible whirlwind that bordered the floating mountain, racing them on an invisible track to the far side.
Slicewind cut through the air with incredible rapidity. Even so, even with the care they had taken to lure the majority of the lightning shadows away from their projected point of entry, when Grunwold brought the vessel in, some of the rearguard of the—Herd? Flock? Host? Was there even a collective noun for such things?—of the lightning shadows were reorienting, cutting through the air to intercept the intruders.
Teg was all too aware that the only thing that stood between the Slicewind’s crew and disaster was a messed-up, gap-year kid who stood, apparently frozen, in the bow, her arms crossed, hands resting on the hilts of her swords. The time to show Vereez was an adult in more than law was coming up really, really fast.
Now that the burst of speed was ended, the secondary sail was no longer needed. Once it was lowered, Teg wrapped her fingers around the sun spider amulet. She didn’t know if its power would work on creatures that seemed to be made from nothing but pure energy, but better to be ready.
She could feel Kaj tensing beside her, ready to loan her mana, if needed. They had all agreed that it would be best if Vereez did not have contact with Kaj again. However, while Teg had a shown an unexpected gift for the magical arts, she had the least mana to contribute. The plan was that she would serve as a funnel to supply mana to Vereez, hopefully muffling Kaj’s signature in the process. They couldn’t count on Xerak to help, because he was opening up a segment of the whirlwind, as well as standing by to help with ship defense, if needed.
The lightning shadows raced closer. Darkness upon darkness . . . (Something in Teg’s memory said, “Tao Te Ching?” and she wondered if she was right.) The nearest lightning shadow raced closer. It was nearly upon them. It opened a maw that coruscated with ball lightning and spat.
Moving with such speed she seemed to be one of the lightning shadows herself, Vereez parried. Her copper blades flashed, liquid fire in the weird, indirect light. The lightning shadow swerved toward the motion. Vereez reoriented, cutting at the approaching monster.
Is she attacking too soon?
But Vereez’s acute awareness of these creatures of wind and wind’s fire—the lightning—didn’t fail her. To those watching, it seemed as if the lightning shadow had not yet reached Slicewind, but Vereez’s parry—for from the way the lightning shadow reeled back, she had struck something invisible to the rest—was successful.
Having parried the lightning shadow’s attack, Vereez followed through. She sliced down with one blade, up with the other. What she caught between those sharp-edged strokes became visible as an LSD-dosed spider’s web of crackling energy, the shape compact yet deep with complexity. Vereez caught the violent energy with her blade, then rolled it into to a compacted ball of force that she shot back to crash into the lightning shadow’s writhing torso.
The creature fell back, but another lightning shadow was approaching, undeterred by what had happened to its host-mate. Teg looked for any indication that Vereez was becoming weary, but the young woman was, if anything, invigorated by the contest. Her fur crackled, giving off multicolored sparks that spat defiance at her opponents.
Nonetheless, Teg nodded to Kaj. He stood behind her, placing his hands on the bare skin of her neck. Teg breathed in the raw lust the young man’s touch inspired, reminding herself that this was just a boy, at least as messed up as the rest, and she was no predator. Along with her awareness of Kaj, she took the mana he was offering her, filling in the reserve she had been learning to build in her lessons with Xerak.
When Teg came back to full awareness, Vereez was still going strong. She was laughing now, catching the lightnings and batting them back with her blades. Grunwold had brought Slicewind through the first ring of the defense—and was guiding them within that two tenths of a mile border. The stored wind was ebbing now, but there was enough that they should be into the hoped-for safe zone before they lost speed.
Meg was calling out again. “I think we were right. Most of the lightning shadows are beginning to show less interest. Only the ones who are actively engaged with Slicewind are still following us. Vereez! Vereez! I think if you shift to defense . . .”
Meg let the words trail off, for it was suddenly apparent to them all that Vereez could not hear them. Teg guessed what had happened. Vereez was drunk on the energy she had been absorbing from the lightning shadows. Vereez might not even be aware that her own resources were exhausted—and why should she be? She’d replaced them with something that probably felt a whole lot more potent.
At that moment, Vereez was playing with a lightning shadow, taunting it, then slicing into it when it drew close. Her laughter sounded like a high-pitched echo of the thunder. Teg dashed forward, suddenly aware Vereez was in more danger than just overdosing on alien mana. She felt rather than saw Xerak running next to her.
“I’ll hold back the lightning shadow,” he said. “You grab Vereez. Haul her back. Insulate yourself. She’s half-gone into becoming one of those things herself.”
Teg was short enough of breath that she could only grunt her reply, but Xerak seemed to understand. He roared, then darted between Vereez and the lightning shadow, shoving Vereez with the butt of his spear staff while exhaling fire at the lightning shadow. It was an impressive performance, but Teg didn’t have time to admire.
Insulate myself. Insulate myself. How do I . . . ?
She drew on the sun spider amulet, channeling her and Kaj’s combined energies through it, envisioning liquid rock, cold and nonreactive as glass, but with the flexibility of molten lava. The sun spider liked the contradictory concept of molten yet cool. Teg heard it giggling as together they guided the liquid stone up and over her hands, continuing past her elbows. The sun spider continued guiding the insulating, for Teg’s attention was needed elsewhere.
The maddened air mage was about to bring her blades down toward Xerak’s unprotected back. Clearly, in this moment, Vereez saw Xerak not as a friend from childhood, but as an impediment between herself and the next infusion of the element that was now singing in her veins. Teg used her glass-gloved hands to grab both of Vereez’s arms before the swords could land.
Vereez screamed protest, flung back her head and snapped at Teg with her long fox’s jaws, teeth closing so close she caught Teg’s short hair between her jaws.
Teg knew she had to restrict Vereez’s ability to use her blades, while keeping her from moving her head around for a second snap. Trusting in the breastplate of insulation the sun spider was building over her chest, Teg embraced Vereez in a tight hug, pinning the young woman’s crackling arms to her sides. For a moment, there was a question as to whether youth would defeat muscles built from years of hard labor on archeological digs, but Teg managed to keep Vereez in a tight hold.
The copper blades were awkward to use at this close range, but Vereez would soon have managed to score at least one clumsy cut in her captor’s lower body if Grunwold, muttering apologies, hadn’t walloped his would-be lady love in the gut. He wore heavy leather gloves but, even so, he shuddered, caught by an electrical jolt. Sparks erupted from his antlers.
At Grunwold’s blow, Vereez gasped, loosening her grip on the twin swords enough that Grunwold could knock the weapons from her hands. Teg continued to hold Vereez as the younger woman kicked and screamed, spitting out invective in a voice of thunder. Then Xerak was with them, also gloved, and the three of them managed to restrain Vereez until, cursing and spitting sparks to the end, she collapsed in something that looked less like a faint than the quiet that follows a violent storm.