Gentle hands shook awake. I started, sitting up in bed and imdiately bent forwards, hand clutching my heart. What the hells? I was dead. No one survived a sword to the heart, not even with healing magic. Maya stared at in confusion, her hands clasped in front of her waist. "Boy, are you well?"
Shit. I was still in Barions house. I fell back, placing my hands on my face.
"Of course Im not well, I got stabbed."
Mayas eyes road up and down my shirtless form with clinical thoroughness and I felt myself blush. "Where?"
I looked down at myself. The spot on my chest was flawless. Several things occurred to at once. Maya had played , sending into Barions lair and setting up to die. And soone was ssing with . A sudden burst of anger took . "Whatever ga you and that hack bastard Barion are playing, Im done." I stood, not caring about my state of undress or the way she shied away from . I summoned the spark and held it to the cottage wall. Mayas eyes went wide.
"Ill burn this place to the ground-"
Instead of backing away, Maya stepped forward. Her hand glowed green, and she placed it against the back of my neck before I could react. There was a loud snap and bright flash of pain as the vertebra in my neck detached themselves. I fell to the ground limply, head bouncing off the bed fra with a hollow thunk and saw black.
I flew through the darkness. The speed felt slightly different from last ti.
Again.
Gentle hands shook awake. I opened my eyes and stared at Maya.
"Boy, are you well?" She asked. There was no suspicion or hostility in her face, nothing to imply she had just tried to murder . Had murdered . I sat up, flexing my neck carefully and finding no pain. My heart beat rapidly in my chest. I was terrified of her.
"Please leave ." I said, unable to look at her.
"Very well, Maya said quietly, seeming to sense sothing was off. "But Master Barion wishes to see you. Do not keep him waiting long.
As soon as the door closed, I began to hyperventilate, head hung, staring at the comforter. The puzzle pieces slid into place with damning clarity. I hadnt been sent a vision of the future.
Id lived it.
And then I died, then was sent back to my childhood. To quote a certain monster, the why and the how of it were beyond . Barion and Maya had both killed . There was no question of that. It ant everything Id learned was true. Not a dream, not a vision. Barion was a monster. Maya could not be trusted. And there were a half dozen children being tortured in the basent.
It occurred to that I knew this story. Id been so distracted it hadnt really co to until now. Whenever I was on one of my many drinking expeditions Id often go to the military bars and hassle the rangers for tales of the Everwood. A particularly surlyor perhaps hauntedveteran regaled with the awful tale. Theyd co across an abandoned house in the Everwood, found the bodies of dozens of children buried there. Only three were found alive in the cellar, all horribly maid. Between long pulls on his ad, he ntioned what really kept him up at night was how fresh everything was. So of the corpses had been there a while, but several were recent, possibly only hours old.
I did the ntal math. The rangers would find this place approximately four years from now. Well, that was no help at all. But wait. If he hadnt already, father would soon be sending out massive search parties. Theyd be thorough. All I really needed to do was run away. Once they found , I could direct them here, and they could save the children in the basent.
Nothing about it was illogical, but it felt wrong, craven sohow. As if I was betraying them.
I could feel guilty later. Now wasnt the ti to take unnecessary risks. I had already died twice, three tis if you counted the first. There was no way to know how many tis I could co back. Id bide my ti for a few days to gather supplies and give the search parties ti to cover ground. Then Id make my escape. I just needed to do things exactly as before.
That plan lasted as long as it took for to walk out of the room. Almost imdiately, things were different. Barion seed markedly less friendly than the last ti, always watching out of the corner of his eye and interrogating on the uses and makeup of whatever mixture I was demonstrating. The gathering went much more quickly now that I knew where to look, and I spent almost all of my free ti practicing with my fla. My feelings for the magic had not changed, but avoidance was simply a luxury I no longer had.
Mayas deanor had changed nearly as much as Barions. Where before, Id been lucky to get a single sentence out of her, now the words gushed from her, as if theyd been held under pressure for quite so ti.
"So lucky." Maya said, srized by the spark in my hand. She lounged in the field as I practiced, our work done for the day.
"Id hate to see what you consider unlucky." I focused on the spark, trying to make it move independently. No dice.
"There goes the storm in your eyes again." Maya said. I grimaced. It was hard to rember what she was capable of and how shed turned on when she was so damn affable. "But you are lucky," she continued. "The dantalion fla is completely lost to my people within this realm."
I closed my hand around the spark, not actually touching it, just letting it fade the mont my fingers closed around it. What Maya said slowly registered. That was different from what shed told last ti.
"Theres no infernals left who can use it?" I asked carefully.
"Most of its practitioners were defending our ho during the reckoning. The human tyrant destroyed the dinsion gate, separating us forever. Perhaps there are a handful left out there, but they are unknown to the Magus Enclave."
I winced, increasingly grateful my na was not as well-known as my fathers. "Forever? So, theres no way to make another gate?"
"There is, but it involves dantalion fire and other high-level magics. A difficulty, when-"
"Your strongest practitioners are on the other side of the gate." I finished, realizing the problem. That explained a lot. Why Maya was working with Barion. More concerning was that during the invasion, there was no shortage of infernals using demon-fire. More than a handful. aning at so point between now and the next ten years, soone fixed the gate, and weaponized them against us. And it wasnt hard to imagine who. I grimaced.
"Where did you go?" Maya asked. She was far too close to my face, her white eyes studying . mories of how shed killed suddenly surfaced and I shied away slightly, trying not to offend her.
"Nowhere." I stood, gathering my satchel. "Lets see if we can top off the bounty for today."
Among the ingredients for healing, I gathered edible plants and filled several water skins under the guise of needing it for the mixtures. "So of these are easier to stomach with food." I lied. During the increasingly awkward dinnerswhich Maya attended this tiI did my best to slip portions of at away, which I later cured with salt. The days slipped by like a ticking clock. I was all too aware of them, growing more anxious and stressed each passing evening. The longer I waited, the more likely Id run into a search party as I made my escapebut also, the more likely Barions cage would be completed. I couldnt rely on him taking the sa amount of ti.
Every evening after the al, I took a walk around the grounds to clear my head and wound up in front of the small garden. It really was beautiful. A bounty of green tomatoes grew on trellises, and I studied them. Tomatoes never grew this late into winterscrest. I crouched in front of them, taking a leaf into my fingers gently.
The secret to growing crops in this accursed land is fertilizer. I only use the best fertilizer for my plants.
I removed my hand from the leaf as if Id been pricked, feeling very ill. It was all too obvious, now, where that fertilizer ca from. Suddenly, the thought of staying there one more night was unbearable.
"Do you dislike my garden, child?" Barions voice broke the silence. I whirled, turning to face him, my heart pounding.
Act normal, idiot.
"Sir Barion," I rubbed the back of my neck and smiled nervously. "You scared ." He inclined his head towards but did not smile.
You have been a bit jumpy as of late." He said. His steady gaze made feel totally transparent.
Say sothing. I needed to say sothing. Sothing to take his mind off the fact that simply being in his presence had unsettled .
"Do you believe in ti magic?" I blurted out. Sohow I kept my face neutral, while internally screaming and taphorically bashing my head against the ground. Why did I say that? Why the hells did I say that?
Barions eyes narrowed and his gaze intensified. "Quite the non-sequitur for a casual evening discussion, child."
I gulped. "I dont et many intelligent folk like yourself, Sir Barion, much less those who know much about the arcane. Its a personal obsession of mine." A few seconds later, "I read about it in a book once." It sounded so false and untrue when I said it aloud, so part of feared that Barion would murder on the spot.
Instead, his face suddenly softened. Mirth played across his features. "Allow to guess: Percival and the Chrono-Sphere?"
I blinked. That had been the exact book I was thinking of when I threw out the excuse. It stood out in my mind not just because of the topic of the story, but the fact it had been the first tragedy Id ever read. It seed so unfair to at the ti, that despite all his hard-work and effort to the contrary, that the hero could lose.
"Thats the one," I admitted.
"Of course it is. Co. This conversation is too heady, my garden will start getting ideas." Barion beckoned to and walked away. Fear lanced through , thinking he might have finished his preparations early and intended to take into the cellar, but instead he headed for the white gazebo off to the east of the cottage. We passed Maya on her way back from the Everwood.
"Maya, darling, would you bring us so tea? The chamomile if you would." Barion smiled winningly at her. The infernal grumbled sothing indecipherable in acknowledgent. A few minutes later we were seated in the heated gazebo.
"So, how does a young apothecary develop an interest in chronal magic?" Barion asked suddenly. But hed made the mistake of changing locations instead of pressing in the garden. Thered been plenty of ti to shore up my excuses. Thaddeus gave invaluable advice once, when I made up a wild story to cover for a night of drinking and was solidly walloped for it: the best lies are mostly truth.
"Wish fulfillnt, I guess. I've always dread of changing the past. When... when I was very young, my mother died of a wasting illness."
It still hurt to say, even if she was still alive. I vividly rembered sitting at her bedside, trying to work out how to read and hold her hand simultaneously when the book was simply too large. That had always been our tradition, reading together. As I grew older and no longer needed soone to read to , we began reading the stories separately and discussing them after the fact. There were so many books in the royal library with an extra copy. It must have cost a fortune. Then, when she could no longer read, I read to her.
One book beca two, then beca one again.
"What kind of wasting illness?" Barion inquired.
"So sort of blood imbalance," I answered, slowly recalling things I drank for years to forget. "It was exceedingly rare. Her mana to blood ratio was upended. It had a na, though I couldnt tell you what it was called."
"Nithia syndro."
My head snapped up, the familiarity of the na rousing from my mories. "Youve heard of it."
"I knew a powerful mage once by the na of YvesThey call them mages in Panthania. I lived there for a ti, studying the difference between their magic and ours. We grew close." Barion waved a hand, "I digress. Brilliant mind. But Yves was a bit of a braggart. He called it hitting the lottery twice. Despite having Nithias, which should have been a death sentence, as a mage, he was able to discharge the mana surplus. If anything, it only made him more powerful."
That was new information.
"Well, my mother was just a normal person," I said bitterly. It sohow felt unjust, describing her that way. "At first it was mostly manageable. Just a nosebleed every few weeks. But as things progressed it beca"
The mory forced its way to the surface. Mother on her back, shaking uncontrollably, flecks of blood bubbling from her mouth and blotching her eggshell-white dress. A pool of black crimson blossoming where her head had cracked against the floor. on my knees, hands frantically trying to cushion her head and neck as she seized, flecks of spittle wetting against my cheeks and face.
" More difficult," I finished quietly. "The doctors couldnt do anything. It was only a matter of ti."
"Im sorry for your loss," Barion said. Strange as it was, it felt like he ant it. "I take it you read the book around that ti? Towards the end."
"I did," I admitted.
Barion placed a hand on his head, looking aggrieved. "I swear, that book has a higher academic body count than Cyrus II and Walden of Tarn combined."
Huh. I was about to ask how when Maya arrived with the tea. "Giving Cairn a history lesson, Master Barion?" She asked with feigned disinterest. Had it not been for the tail twitching nervously, she would have looked completely composed.
"Thank you dear," Barion took his tea and flooded it with milk. "Co sit with us, Maya. Our guest has so questions about chronal magic."
Maya hesitated, then took a seat between us. She folded her hands beneath her. I could see her knee bouncing restlessly beneath the table. The absurdity of it hit all at once and I had to hide a smile. A child-murdering monster, an infernal, and a reincarnated prince, all sipping tea together in a quaint gazebo and discussing ti travel.
"Where was I?"
"The book with the body count." I prompted.
"Right. Well, other than proliferating the proletarian farce that all the rabble must do to raise their station is rise up and overthrow their betters" Barion rolled his eyes, pausing to sip his tea. "The problem with Percival is that it just sounds so damn plausible. Almost malfeasantly so."
"Im lost," Maya looked between the two of us. "What are we talking about?"
"Ti travel and how it relates to a particular example of Hestrian populist philosophy thinly disguised as fiction. Do try to keep up." Barion said, with the barest hint of a smile. Maya only looked more lost, and I couldnt really bla her. "Do you rember how Percival described the chrono sphere when he found it?"
I considered that and furrowed my brow. "Its been a long ti since I read it. If I rember correctly, it was a mixture of different magics held within a sphere."
"Not just any magics." Barion said. "Water. Earth. Stone. Air. And life." He glanced at Maya.
"Healing magic?" Maya guessed.
"Yes. Those basic elents, held within a spatial field. All arranged in the exact ratio of the elents in our world. The idea being to create a microcosm of earth herself." Barion explained. Mayas eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "So you already see the problem."
"Now Im lost," I said.
"The only reason a mage would create a simulacrum like that," Maya said, still astounded, "Would be to form a sympathetic link between the sphere and the Earth. But the power required would be"
"Colossal." Barion finished. "Were talking about real, world level magic. Literal fields of mana batteries as far as the eye can see. But once youve overco the logistical nightmare of powering the thing, you still must deal with the sphere. The idea is you create a sphere so similar to the Earth in its ratios of elents that the only difference is scale. The elents are held within a spatial field, the sort of the spell used to fix expensive objects that cannot be replaced or repaired by traditional thods. Like with any direct link magic, the closer the link, the higher the likelihood to succeed. What, then, is the problem?"
"The ratios," I mused. "Theres no way to know if you got the math right."
"It is impossible to know if youve gotten the calculations right." Barion nodded in approval. "Even if a dedicated institution of magicians had teams on all four corners of the Earth, taking samples, and an entire team of mathematicians working on the calculations, at so point they would be guessing. And the only way to know for certain is to try."
Maya looked grim. "You could destroy the entire world."
"Yes." Barion said. "But only if your math is right. Astronomically improbable. More likely, you blow yourself to the seven hells and everyone else within a mile radius."
I sipped my tea, quietly pondering that. "So regardless of how powerful the magician is, its impossible."
"Sadly, yes." Barion looked at sympathetically. "Given the authors thematic proclivities its widely theorized that the point of making ti travel seem so plausible was to act as a honeypot for the very elite it demonized. What better way to get petty revenge on your betters than to have them blow themselves up?"
"No one can change the past, try as we might," Maya said, in a faraway voice that gave the impression she was no stranger to this line of thought. "It is better to look forward."
It wasnt the answer I wanted, but it did clarify things. What was happening to wasnt the work of a single mage. There was sothing driving this on a much greater scale.
Soti later, I gathered my things and prepared to slip into the dark.
Reviews
All reviews (0)