Legacy Of The Darksword Part 12

If only I could move faster! I could see, in my mind, those catalysts who had once made this trail and walked it every day, bounding down it like goats. . . .

I was bounding down it, if not like a goat, at least swiftly and easily. Brown robes hiked up to my waist, sandals flapping, a bag of scrolls flung over my shoulder, I ran down the trail in the bright sunshine of a fine day. All the young catalysts and occasionally some of the old ones took this route when they were late for cla.s.ses, for this trail led straight to the University.

The vision was eerie and startling, just like the other vision I'd had before-of myself in brown robes, of Eliza my queen. . . . Of course, as an author, I was accustomed to living in my imagination and my fancies and dreams are very real to me. But not as real as this. Again, I lifted a curtain to look out a window and saw myself on the other side, looking back in.

But-could I use this to my benefit? Did I dare?

I was light-headed from exhaustion and the thin air of the high alt.i.tude. Plus I was desperate, fearful for Eliza's safety. Otherwise I do not believe that I could have done what I did. I let go of myself in this life and gave myself to the other life, if that's what it truly was. I became that catalyst, late for cla.s.s, certain to be in trouble with the master, and I plunged down the hillside.

My feet knew where the stones would be, my hands knew where to grasp. I knew where I could safely slide and once I even jumped from one ledge to another. It was madness, it was exhilarating. If I had stopped to think about what I was doing, I would have frozen in place and been unable to move another step.

When I finally reached the bottom, I gasped for breath and stared up the hillside and the catalyst that I was vanished. I realized what I had done and my stomach turned within me. Quickly, I looked away and started to search for Eliza. I had a final image of the catalyst running in the opposite direction from the one I was taking and part of me was sorry to let him go.

I had reached a broad, flat, white-stone-paved road. It must be the main highway, leading down from the Font to the foothills and the long abandoned city below, a city whose sole reason for being had been to support the Font and the University. This road must have been clogged with wheelless carts that floated on the wings of magic and the exotic and fanciful carriages of the n.o.bility coming to pay their respects or to ask for favors or visit sons and daughters attending the University.

I stared down the road's bending, winding length, shining like a white ribbon in the night, and after a moment I saw a dark shadow moving along it, keeping to the side, but not taking any other precautions. She was not far ahead of me and moving slowly. I guessed her burden must have weighed more than she'd imagined when she started. I was thankful to see that she was still alone, not counting Teddy, of course.

I hastened after her, my way comparatively easy now. She heard my footsteps, when I drew near, and made a halfhearted attempt to increase the speed of her pace, but that didn't last long. Realizing the futility of trying to escape, she stopped and turned to face me. Her extreme pallor made her face ghostly in the starlight; her black eyes beneath their thick brows were bright with anger and defiance. But I saw that she was tired, too, and perhaps a little frightened, and that there was something in her which was glad she was no longer alone.

I caught hold of her arm beneath her cloak and started to draw her into the shadows of the trees that lined the road. "What are you doing?" she demanded, breaking free. I pointed to the shadows, then to the gleaming white road, and shook my head.

"He's trying to tell you that we stand out like a mole on the Countess D'Arymple's backside. She had a very white, smooth backside," Teddy added helpfully.

"I don't see what difference it makes," Eliza said petulantly. She held the bear tucked under one arm, the heavy bundle awkwardly in the other hand. "No one is around to notice us, anyway."

"From your mouth to the Almin's ear," said Teddy, which was, more or less, exactly what I had been thinking.

I took hold of Eliza's arm again and this time she allowed me to lead her off that gleaming highway and into the shadows of the trees. She carried the bundle. I did not try to take it from her. Once in the deep shadows, she dropped the burden on the ground, in a pile of leaves. Then she sank down on a low, crumbling wall and stared at the bundle at her feet.

"I didn't know it would be so heavy," she said. "It didn't seem heavy when I first picked it up. But now it weighs more and more. And it's awkward and difficult to carry."

I pulled out my electronic notebook from the pocket of my jacket; thanking the Almin that I'd put it there earlier, for such had been my haste at departure that I had not thought to bring it along. I typed the words. The Darksword. The Darksword.

"Yes," said Eliza, looking at what I'd written.

What are you doing with it? Where are you taking it? I asked. I asked.

"To the army base," she replied.

I was so astonished, I stared at her and forgot to type.

"My father is wrong," she said in a low, determined voice, looking down at the sword at her feet. "It's not his fault." She defended him loyally, glanced at me defiantly, as if I'd accused him. "You don't know him! If he finds it hard to trust people, can you blame him? Time and again he was betrayed by those he trusted."

It was not quite as simple as that, but I honored her for defending him.

"I'm taking the sword to the army base, to give it to the Border Patrol to take back to Earth. Then people will leave us alone and our lives will be peaceful once more. And when the sword is gone, no one will hurt Father, ever again."

I saw the tears shine in her dark eyes that were looking forward to that life, a life that would be empty for her, isolated and alone on this deserted world. I saw her generous, n.o.ble spirit in that moment and I loved her. I could not tell her. It would not be fair to take advantage of her. But silently I pledged my heart and my soul to her service, as I knew in that other life the catalyst had pledged his heart and soul to serve his queen.

How do you know about the army base? I typed. I typed.

"I've been there," she said with a smile at my surprise. "Simkin showed me. It was his idea to take the sword there tonight."

She fondled the bear, rubbing his head.

"Oh, no one at the base ever saw me," she said. "I made certain of that. Simkin used his magic to keep me invisible. I would sit on crates and watch the people come and go and listen to them talk. I'd do that for hours, when Mama and Papa thought I was in the library studying." She grinned impishly. "I used to watch the skyships take off, blasting fire and roaring like thunder. Simkin said they were traveling to Earth. I would imagine what it would be like to be on one. Yesterday, when you and Father Saryon came, I thought-"

Her smile faded. Resolutely, she buried her dream. "I was wrong," she said, and started to stand up.

I stopped her. I had a great many questions, mostly concerning Simkin. I thought it extremely odd and perhaps even sinister that he was suggesting giving the Darksword away. But those questions could wait.

The army base is a long distance from here, I told her. I told her. Many miles. Many miles. You could not reach it tonight or even tomorrow by walking. Certainly not carrying the heavy sword. You could not reach it tonight or even tomorrow by walking. Certainly not carrying the heavy sword.

"We weren't planning to walk all the way," she said, avoiding my eyes. "We can't use the magical routes we normally travel, because of the Darksword destroying the magic. But Simkin said that you . . . um . . . had an air car. We were only going to borrow it. I would have brought it back. I know how they operate. I've even ridden in one before, though no one knew I was there."

So much for Prospero's daughter. The brave new world was old hat to her.

Please come back home, I wrote. I wrote. This burden is not your burden. That is why it seems so heavy. It is your father's and he alone can cast it off or choose to carry it. Besides, you could be in danger. This burden is not your burden. That is why it seems so heavy. It is your father's and he alone can cast it off or choose to carry it. Besides, you could be in danger.

"What?" She stared at me, amazed and disbelieving. "How? There is no one here beyond the Border but Father Saryon, my parents, and ourselves!"

I did not feel that I could offer adequate explanation. Come back. Talk to Father Saryon. Besides, Come back. Talk to Father Saryon. Besides, I added, I added, your mother told us that, by morning, Joram will have had a change of heart. He is reacting out of hurt and anger. When he thinks about things, he will do what is necessary. You shouldn't take that decision away from him. your mother told us that, by morning, Joram will have had a change of heart. He is reacting out of hurt and anger. When he thinks about things, he will do what is necessary. You shouldn't take that decision away from him.

"You are right," Eliza said, after a moment's thought. "It was only by accident I found the sword. We missed Papa one afternoon-it was the day after that horrible Smythe-man came. Mama was worried and sent me to look for him. I searched all over and no sign of him. When I finally found him, where do you think he was?"

I shook my head.

"In the chapel," she said. "I came in the door and there he was. He wasn't praying, like I thought at first. He was sitting on the stair beneath the altar and this-the Darksword-was across his knees. He was staring at it as if he hated and loathed it, but yet as if he loved it and was proud of it."

Eliza shivered and drew her cloak more closely around her. I pressed my body a little nearer, to warm her and warm myself both. The picture she painted with her words was not a pleasant one.

"The look on his face frightened me. I was afraid to say anything, because I knew he would be furious. I wanted to leave. I knew I should should leave, but I couldn't. I sneaked into a little alcove near the door and I watched him. He sat for a long, long time, just staring at the sword. And then he gave a great sigh and shook his head. He wrapped the sword up in this cloth and opened up a little hidden door inside the altar itself. He put the sword in there, inside the altar, and he shut the door and left. I waited until he was gone before I dared move. I felt ashamed. I knew I had seen something I shouldn't have seen. Something that was secret and private to my father. And now he'll know." Her head drooped. "He'll find out I was spying on him. He'll be so terribly disappointed." leave, but I couldn't. I sneaked into a little alcove near the door and I watched him. He sat for a long, long time, just staring at the sword. And then he gave a great sigh and shook his head. He wrapped the sword up in this cloth and opened up a little hidden door inside the altar itself. He put the sword in there, inside the altar, and he shut the door and left. I waited until he was gone before I dared move. I felt ashamed. I knew I had seen something I shouldn't have seen. Something that was secret and private to my father. And now he'll know." Her head drooped. "He'll find out I was spying on him. He'll be so terribly disappointed."

Maybe not, I typed. I typed. We'll take the sword back to its hiding place and he'll never realize it was gone. We'll take the sword back to its hiding place and he'll never realize it was gone.

"Are you sure that would be right?" she asked me, troubled. "Wouldn't that be lying, in a way?"

The truth will serve no purpose, I wrote, I wrote, and only hurt him. Later, when all this is pa.s.sed, then you can confess to him what you did. and only hurt him. Later, when all this is pa.s.sed, then you can confess to him what you did.

She liked that. She agreed to return to the Font with me, although she refused to let me carry the sword.

"It is my burden now," she said with a half smile. "At least for a little while."

I was given the honor of carrying Teddy. Trying to ignore the fact that the bear winked its b.u.t.ton eye at me as I took hold of it, I was about to ask Eliza how long she had known Teddy was Simkin or vice versa, when suddenly the bear said, in quite a different tone, a serious alarming tone, "We are not alone."

"What?" Eliza asked, pausing and staring around. "Who's there? Is it Papa?"

"No, it is not Papa! Keep quiet! Don't move! Don't even breathe! Too late." Teddy groaned. "They've heard us."

Silver shimmered in the night. Two figures clad in silver robes, their faces hooded and masked, were walking along the highway. They were twenty paces from us and coming up on us rapidly. Eliza opened her mouth. I put my fingers on her lips, to warn her to keep silent. We stood in the shadows, hardly daring to breathe, as Teddy had cautioned. The figures continued walking and they came to a halt, right opposite us. Their faceless faces turned slowly in our direction.

"This is where we heard voices, sir," one was saying, speaking into some sort of communication device. "They came from somewhere around here. Yes, sir, we'll check it out."

Eliza shrank close to me. Her free hand clutched mine. She pressed the Darksword to her body. I put my arm around her, held fast to her, and thought frantically of what to do if they found us, which it seemed they must do any moment. Should we make a break for it? Should we- "Almin's blood," said Simkin irritably. "It seems I must get you out of this."

The bear vanished from my hand. A translucent form, much as if smoke had taken the shape of a young and foppish n.o.bleman from about the time of Louis XIV, materialized right in front of the Technomancers.

"Oh, I say! Lovely night for a walk, isn't it?" Simkin languidly waved his orange scarf in the air.

I must give the Technomancers credit. They would have been more than human if they had not been startled by the apparition materializing before them, but they kept amazingly calm. One thrust her hand into the molten fabric of the silver robe, held up a gob of it, and a device shaped itself out of the fabric.

"What is this thing?" asked the other Technomancer, a male by his voice. The faceless head was gazing at Simkin.

"I'm a.n.a.lyzing it now," the woman replied.

"a.n.a.lyzing me? With that?" Simkin cast the device a scathing glance and smiled smugly. He seemed to find the entire idea hilarious. "What does it say I am? Spirit? Specter? Spook? Ghost? Ghoul? Wraith? I know-doppelganger! No, better yet. Poltergeist."

He sidled around, craned his head to try to get a look at the device. "Perhaps I'm not here at all. Perhaps you're hallucinating. Sleep deprivation. A bad acid trip. Or maybe you're going mad." He appeared eager to help.

"Residual magic," the woman reported. Snapping shut the device, she slid it back into the robe, which seemed to swallow it whole. "We postulated that there are likely to be pockets of leftover magic all over Thimhallan."

"Residual magic!" Simkin quivered, his voice cracked with outrage. He could barely speak for his emotion. "Me! Simkin! The darling of Kings, the play toy of Emperors! Me! Magical leftovers! Like some d.a.m.n moldy sandwich!"

The Technomancer was reporting in again.

"The voices checked out, sir. Nothing to worry about. Residual magic. A substanceless phantasm, possibly an Echo. We were warned about such. It poses no threat."

He paused a moment, listening, then said, "Yes, sir."

"Our orders?" the woman asked.

"Continue. The other teams are on site and advancing."

"What do we do with this thing?" The woman gestured at Simkin. "It has a voice. It could warn the subject."

"Unlikely," the man responded. "Echoes mindlessly repeat words they've heard others speak. They mimic, like parrots, and like parrots, sometimes give the illusion of appearing intelligent."

I cannot describe the look on Simkin's face. His eyes bulged, his mouth opened and shut. Perhaps for the first time in his life- which, considering that he was probably immortal, had certainly been a long one-he was struck dumb.

The man started to walk on. The woman was more dubious. Her silver face was turned toward Simkin.

He hung in the air, appearing more nebulous than when he had first taken shape; a wisp of smoke and orange silk that looked as if it could be puffed away in a breath.

"I think we should disrupt it," the woman said.

"Against orders," the man returned. "Someone might see the flash and raise the alarm. Remember, those d.a.m.n Duuk-tsarith Duuk-tsarith are around here, too." are around here, too."

"I suppose you are right," the woman agreed charily.

The two walked on, moving at a rapid pace up the highway toward the Font.

Eliza and I kept still, waiting until they were out of earshot and beyond. I hushed Eliza when she would have spoken, for I could see by the Technomancers' swift and easy movement that they had some sort of night vision and I was afraid they might have technologies which enhanced their hearing, as well.

When they had disappeared, going down a dip in the highway, I moved cautiously to where I could get a better view. I guessed from their words what was going forward, but I needed to see it for myself.

Here and there across the hillside, figures, shining silver in the lambent light, formed a cordon around the Font, moving inexorably toward it, closing in.

"Who are they? What are they?" Eliza demanded.

"Evil," I signed, and she needed no translation.

"They've come for the Darksword, haven't they?" she asked fearfully.

I nodded and recalled the glowing listening devices in the living room.

"Would they ..." She had to pause to find the courage to speak. "Would they kill kill to get it?" to get it?"

I nodded again, reluctantly.

"They won't believe Papa when he says he doesn't have the sword," Eliza said, thinking through the scenario, as I was myself. "They'll think he's lying, trying to keep it from them. If we give it to them, perhaps they'll leave us alone. We must take it back! We'll use the shortcut."

I agreed. I could see no other way. But it occurred to me that even taking the shortcut, burdened as we were with the heaVy sword and forced to keep to the shadows, we would arrive long after the Technomancers had stormed the building.

Simkin! Simkin could warn Joram, could tell him that we had the sword and we were bringing it back.

I turned to see the diaphanous figure floating over the highway. The words residual magic residual magic blew hot against my face, like a dry desert wind. blew hot against my face, like a dry desert wind.

"No threat? Well, we'll see about that!" cried Simkin. "Mer-lyn? Merlyn, where are you? Never around when you might be of the slightest use, of course. The old fool!" and with that, he was gone.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

"Yow fool is here to save you from your folly. Rather a nice ring to that. I must remember it." fool is here to save you from your folly. Rather a nice ring to that. I must remember it."

SiMKIN; DOOM OF THE DARKSWORD DOOM OF THE DARKSWORD I hoped that Simkin had read my thoughts and was gone to alert Joram and the others to their danger. Capricious and erratic as I knew Simkin to be, however, my hope was a forlorn one. And I did not think it likely we could count on Merlyn-with a hoped that Simkin had read my thoughts and was gone to alert Joram and the others to their danger. Capricious and erratic as I knew Simkin to be, however, my hope was a forlorn one. And I did not think it likely we could count on Merlyn-with a y y or an or an i i-to save us.

"Hurry!" urged Eliza, taking my hand and drawing me back among the trees. "This way is faster! Through the fields."

We had to cross the wall, not difficult, as it was low to the ground. Eliza was hampered by her long skirt and her cloak, and needed both her hands to climb over. She hesitated only a moment, looking into my eyes, then she handed me the Darksword, wrapped in its cloth blanket.

I knew immediately what she'd meant about the physical burden of the sword. The sword's weight was considerable, for it was made of iron, mixed with darkstone, and had been designed to be wielded by a grown man with immense physical strength. But as heavy as the sword was to carry, it weighed far more heavily on the heart than it did on the hands. Holding it, I glimpsed the soul that had produced it-a dark maelstrom of fear and anger.

Bitter lessons learned, Joram had struggled up from the darkness of his soul, saved himself from drowning beneath the perilous waters. He had returned the original Darksword to the stone from which it was made. He had released magic into the universe. And though he had destroyed a world, he had saved the lives of many thousands who would otherwise have perished in the great war Earth waged for Thimhallan. If Joram did not walk in the light, at least he could feel the sun upon his upturned face.