Legacy Of The Darksword Part 15

"Don't be afraid," Mosiah said swiftly. "It is a hologram."

It was well he said this, for the image appeared very real, not watery, as do many holograms. I would have sworn that the man himself stood before us. It must be the magic of the Technomancers, which so enhanced the electronically created image.

"I have read of such things!" Eliza gasped. "But I have never seen one. Can he ... can he hear us?"

She asked this because Scylla had her ringer to her lips and she, along with Mosiah, was hunting for the source of the hologram. Finding it-a small boxlike object tucked into a recess in the fireplace-they both examined it, both careful not to touch it. They exchanged glances-the first time, I believe, they had looked at each other directly-and Mosiah, nodding his head, drew his hood over his face and clasped his hands together.

Eliza stood up. Teddy slid, forgotten, from her lap. When he looked as if he was about to protest, I set my foot upon him and kicked him backward, none too gently, underneath my stool.

If I had not admired Eliza before now, I would have done so then. She was exhausted, frightened, grieving, anxious. She was well aware that this was the man who was responsible for the abduction of her parents and Father Saryon. Yet she faced him with the dignified reserve of a Queen who knows that any overt show of anger will only demean herself and never faze her enemy.

When I look back on that moment in memory, I see her clothed in gold, shining more brightly than the paltry light of the hologram of the Technomancer. She did not beg or plead, knowing both those to be fruitless. She asked of him what she might have asked of any base intruder.

"What do you want, sir?"

He was not wearing his suit, but was clad in white robes that I later learned were the ceremonial robes of the Khandic Sages. Around the sleeves and hem and neck were laid out in a grid pattern tiny filaments of metal, which glinted and winked as they caught the light. I thought at the time they were merely fanciful decoration.

Kevon Smythe smiled his ingratiating smile. "Since you come so swiftly to the point, mistress, I will myself be brief. Your father is with us. He is our guest. He has come with us voluntarily, because he knows our need is great. He left home in haste and unfortunately neglected to bring with him an object of which he is quite fond. That object is the Darksword. Its absence distresses him greatly. He fears it could fall into the wrong hands and cause inestimable harm. He would like to have it safely back in his possession. If you tell us where to find the Darksword, Mistress Eliza, we will secure it and deliver it to your father."

Half of me believed him. I knew the truth. I had seen the wreckage, the destruction, I had seen the blood on the floor. He was so persuasive that I saw, in my mind, exactly what he wanted me to see-Joram, concerned, willingly going with them. I was certain Eliza must believe him. Mosiah thought so, too, apparently, for he glided forward, prepared to confront the Technomancer. Scylla did not move, but watched Eliza.

"I want to see my father and mother," Eliza said.

"I am sorry, mistress, that is not possible," said Smythe. "Your father had a long journey and he is fatigued, plus being most anxious over the fate of the Darksword. He fears for your safety, my dear. The blade is sharp, the sword unwieldy. You might cut yourself. Tell us where to find it and perhaps, by that time, your father will have recovered sufficiently to be able to talk to you."

His smooth voice and benign manner slid over his threats like a silken scarf.

"Sir," Eliza stated calmly, "you lie. Your minions took my father and mother and Father Saryon by force. Then they destroyed our home, searching for the object which my father would never give to you, so long as he lived. And the same may be said of his daughter. If that is all you came for, you have my leave to go."

Kevon Smythe's expression softened. He seemed truly grieved. "It is not my place to chastise you, mistress, but your father will not like to hear of your refusal. He will be angry with you and will punish you for your disobedience. He has warned me that you are sometimes a willful, stubborn child. We have his authorization to take the sword from you by force, if that becomes necessary."

Eliza's lashes were wet with tears, but she maintained her control. "You do not know my father if you think he would say such a thing. You do not know me if you think I would believe it. Get out."

Kevon Smythe shook his head resignedly, then shifted his head to gaze at me. "Reuven, it is good to see you again, though, I regret to say, under sad circ.u.mstances. It seems that Father Saryon has been afflicted with a terrible disease, which will cause his death unless he receives prompt treatment back on Earth. Our physicians give him thirty-six hours to live. You know the good father, Reuven. He will not leave without Joram and Joram will not leave without the Darksword. If I were you, I would do my best to find it, wherever it may be hidden."

His gaze shifted back to Eliza. "Bring the Darksword to the city of Zith-el. Come to the Eastroad Gate. Someone will be waiting for you."

The image went out. Mosiah removed the holographic projector, which had been stashed inside the fireplace. A stone had been pried loose, the projection machine placed inside. He tossed it on the floor.

"You knew that was there," Scylla said.

"Yes. They had to have some means to communicate with us. I found it before you arrived."

Scylla stomped on it with her heavy boot, crushed it. "Are there any listening devices?"

"I removed them. I decided to leave this. We needed to hear what they had to say. Zith-el." He mused. "So they have taken Joram to Zith-el."

"Yes." Scylla slapped her hands on her thighs. "Now we can make plans."

"We!" Mosiah looked at her very balefully. "What do you you have to do with this? With any of this?" have to do with this? With any of this?"

"I'm here," said Scylla, with a sly smile. "And the Darksword is in my air car. I'd say I have a lot to do with this."

"I was right. General Boris did send you," Mosiah said, his tone harsh. "You're one of his people. d.a.m.n it, he promised he would leave this to us!"

"You've done such a wonderful job so far," Scylla commented wryly.

Mosiah flushed, stiffened. "I didn't see you around when the D'karn-darah D'karn-darah attacked." attacked."

"Stop it!" Eliza said sharply. "You both want the Darksword.

That's all you care about. Well, you can't have it. I'm going to do what he says. I'm going to take it to Zith-el."

Eliza's defiance might have seemed childish and silly, but her grief and her own self-recrimination loaned her the strength she lacked. She spoke with dignity and resolve, and those two people, older and stronger and more powerful, both regarded her with respect.

"You know that you can't trust Smythe," Mosiah told her. "He will try to take the sword and make us all prisoners. Or worse."

"I know that I don't seem to be able to trust anybody," Eliza said with a quaver in her voice. She glanced at me, gave me a sweet, sad smile, and added softly, "Except Reuven."

The pain in my heart was blessed, but it was also too great to bear and overflowed my eyes. I turned away, ashamed of my lack of self-control, when she was so strong.

"I do not see what other choice I have," Eliza continued, now speaking quite calmly. "I will take the Darksword to Smythe and hope that he will keep his promise to free my father and Father Saryon. I will go alone-"

I made an emphatic gesture, which caught her eye. She amended her statement. "Reuven and I will go together. The two of you will remain here."

"I have told you the truth, Eliza," said Scylla. "I do not want the Darksword. There is only one man who can wield it and that is the one who forged it."

Suddenly, Scylla knelt down on one knee in front of Eliza. Pressing the palms of her hands together, in an att.i.tude of prayer, Scylla raised them. "I promise you, Eliza, I swear by the Almin, that I will do whatever lies in my power to rescue Joram and to restore to him the Darksword."

The sight of Scylla-her army fatigues and cropped hair- kneeling there, seemed ludicrous at first. Then I was reminded forcibly of a drawing I had once seen of Joan of Arc, pledging her duty to her king. There burned the same holy fervor in Scylla, so bright and clear that her military fatigues disappeared and I saw her clad in shining armor, offering her pledge to her queen.

The vision lasted only an instant, but it was detailed perfectly in my mind. I saw the throne room, the crystal throne room of the kingdom of Merilon. Crystal throne, crystal dais, crystal chairs, crystal pillars-everything in the room was transparent, the only reality was the queen in her gown of gold who stood on that translucent platform, uplifted, exalted. Before her, kneeling, gazing upward, shining in silver armor, her knight.

And I was not alone. Mosiah saw the vision, too, or so I believe. Certainly he saw something, for he stared at Scylla in awe, though I heard him mutter, "What trick is this?"

Eliza clasped her hands over Scylla's. "I accept your pledge. You will accompany us."

Scylla bowed her head. "My life is yours, Your Majesty."

The t.i.tle seemed so right, that none of us caught it, until Eliza blinked.

"What did you call me?"

Scylla stood and the vision vanished. She was once again wearing the combat fatigues and boots, her ear lined with the tiny earrings.

"Just my little joke." Scylla grinned and went to refill the teapot. She glanced back at Mosiah. "You are much much more handsome in person. Say, why don't you take the same oath? Pledge yourself to rescue Joram and restore the Darksword to its owner. You must, you know. Otherwise we won't take you with us to Zith-el." more handsome in person. Say, why don't you take the same oath? Pledge yourself to rescue Joram and restore the Darksword to its owner. You must, you know. Otherwise we won't take you with us to Zith-el."

Mosiah was angry. "You are fools if you think that Smythe will give up any of the hostages once he has the Darksword! The Technomancers need Joram to teach them how to forge more." He turned to Eliza. "Come with me back to Earth. Give the sword into the safekeeping of King Garald. We will return with an army to rescue your father and mother."

"The army is mobilizing to make a last stand against the Hch'nyv," countered Scylla. "You will get no help from them. And I doubt if they could do much against the Technomaricers anyway. They have long been building up their strength in Zith-el, surrounding it with their defenses. An army could not take it. It's all in our files," she added in answer to Mosiah's flashing look of suspicion. "You're not the only people keeping tabs on Smythe."

Mosiah ignored her, continued speaking to Eliza, his tone growing softer. "I am Joram's friend. If I thought surrendering the Darksword would free him, I would be the first to advocate such a venture. But it won't. It can't possibly. Surely you can see that?"

"What you say makes sense, Mosiah," Eliza agreed. "But the Darksword is not mine and so any decisions concerning it are not mine to make. I am taking the sword back to my father. I will make that clear to this Smythe. My father will make the decision as to what to do with the sword."

"Place the Darksword in the hand of its gloomy and doomy creator, and you might be surprised at what happens," advised a sepulchral voice from underneath my stool. "Personally, I think he should give it to my friend Merlyn. I did mention that I knew Merlyn, didn't I? You'll find him hanging around down by that moldy old tomb of his. Quite a depressing place. I can't think what he sees in it. Merlyn's been looking for a sword for a number of years now. Some dolt tossed his into a lake. This isn't it, but the old boy's a bit dotty now and he probably wouldn't know the difference."

We had forgotten Teddy.

I fished him out, dusty and indignant, but otherwise unharmed.

I signed, "Simkin has a point. Not about Merlyn," I added hastily. "About Joram. Once the Darksword is in Joram's hand, it might be used to defeat the Technomancers."

"Have you forgotten that this Darksword is not magically enhanced? No catalyst has given it Life. The Darksword stands no chance of getting anywhere near Joram's hand," Mosiah stated bitterly. "Kevon Smythe will take hold of it and that will be an end. We go upon a fool's journey."

"Just like old times," Teddy remarked with a nostalgic sigh.

"YowYe not coming!" Mosiah said firmly.

"I wouldn't leave me behind," Teddy warned us. "I can't be trusted. Not in the slightest. Much better to have me where you can keep an eye on me as the d.u.c.h.ess of Winifred said regarding the table where she kept her eyeball collection. She had one for every day of the year, different colors. Used to pop them out after breakfast. I recall the day one got loose and rolled across the marble floor. The house catalyst mistakenly trod upon it. You can't imagine the squi-"

"I'll take him," Eliza said hurriedly. s.n.a.t.c.hing Teddy from me, she tucked him securely into the pocket of her skirt. "He can stay with me."

Mosiah glared around at all of us. "Are you determined to do this? Reuven?"

I nodded. My duty was to Father Saryon. And even if it had not been, I would go wherever Eliza went, support her in whatever she did.

"I go with Eliza," said Scylla.

"And I am going to Zith-el," said Eliza.

"If you are resolved on this, we should leave. You said you have an air car?" Mosiah looked at Scylla. His expression was not friendly.

"You're coming with us?" she asked, delighted.

"Of course. I will not leave Joram and his wife and Father Saryon in the hands of the Technomancers."

"You will not leave the Darksword in our hands, isn't that what you mean?" Scylla said with a sly grin.

"Take my words however you want," Mosiah returned. "I am tired of arguing with the lot of you. Well, are you coming? Even with the air car, we will be lucky to arrive in Zith-el before dark."

"And will your friends, the rest of the Duuk-tsarith, Duuk-tsarith, be joining us there?" Scylla asked, raising the eyebrow that was pierced with the tiny gold ring. be joining us there?" Scylla asked, raising the eyebrow that was pierced with the tiny gold ring.

Mosiah stared out the window, into the distance, a far distance, that only he could see. "There is no Life in Zith-el," he said softly. "Only death. Countless of our people died there when the quakes struck and the ground shifted, toppling the buildings. They lie unburied, their spirits troubled, demanding to know the reason why they died. No, the Duuk-tsarith Duuk-tsarith will not go to Zith-el. There they would suffocate and their magic would be stifled, smothered." will not go to Zith-el. There they would suffocate and their magic would be stifled, smothered."

"But you will go," Scylla said.

"I will go," Mosiah said, and he was grim. "As I told you, my friends are being held captive there. Besides, it doesn't make much difference to me whether or not my magic is stifled. After the battle I have little Life left within me. Unless we b.u.mp into a catalyst on the way, I will be good for nothing except throwing rocks. Don't count on me to defend you!"

Or defend himself, I thought, recalling how the Technomancers were hunting him.

"And how do we know we can trust you?" Eliza asked.

"I will take your oath," Mosiah said, "on one condition. I will do all in my power to restore the Darksword to Joram, its creator. But if we fail, then I claim the right to transport the Dark-sword back to my king."

"If we fail, you will have no king. The Technomancers will see to that," said Scylla.

Suddenly, astonishingly, she flung her arms around Mosiah and gave him a hug. She was taller than he was by a head and far stronger. Her hug squeezed his shoulders together and caved in his chest. "I like you," she said. "And I never thought I'd say that to an Enforcer. If you give me the keys, Reuven, I'll drive the air car around front. We'll need food and blankets. I have water with me."

Releasing him, she clapped him on the back and then strode purposefully from the room. I could hear her heavy, booted footsteps all the way down the hall.

As I went to help Eliza with the food and blankets, I looked back and saw Mosiah standing in the center of the empty, decimated room. A gentle breeze from the window stirred his black robes. His hands were clasped before him, he had drawn his hood over his head. I judged, by the tilt of his hooded head, that he still stared far off into that distance which was his alone to view. But now he was searching for someone or something and not finding it, apparently.

"Who the h.e.l.l are you?" , The words hung like the taint of smoke in the air.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

"And then the magic filled me! It was like the Life of everything around me, pouring into me, surging through me. I felt a hundred times more alive!"

DOOM OF THE DARKSWORD.

By the time Eliza and I had gathered up bedding and food, Scylla had driven the air car around to the front of the building. We loaded the bedding and the food into the luggage area in the back. That done, we stood looking somewhat bemusedly at the air car, which only seated four-two in the front and two in the back. The Darksword, wrapped in its blanket, lay across the backseat.

"That should go in the rear," said Mosiah.

"No," Eliza said swiftly. "I want it where I can see it."

"Put it on the floor in the backseat," suggested Scylla.

Eliza grasped hold of the sword, tugged the blanket over it more securely, and laid it across the floor of the backseat. Mosiah took his place in the front, next to Scylla-if Eliza wanted to keep an eye on the sword, I think Mosiah was determined to keep an eye on Scylla. That suited me well, however, leaving me to sit in back with Eliza. She started to climb in beside me.

"Blessed Almin!" she cried suddenly, straightening and turning to look down the hillside. "The sheep! I can't leave them penned up. I'll water them and turn them out to pasture. It won't take a moment. I'll be right back."

She was gone, running down the hillside.

"We have to stop her!" Scylla said, starting to climb out of the air car.

"No," Mosiah countered, his voice harsh. "Let her see for herself. Then maybe she will understand."

See what? I didn't like this. Jumping out of the air car, I ran after Eliza and soon caught up with her. My legs were stiff, the muscles starting to tighten after the physical exertion from last night. I gritted my teeth against the soreness as we dashed down the hillside toward the sheep pen.

Even from this distance, I could see something was terribly wrong. I tried to halt Eliza's wild rush, but she angrily flung off my restraining hand and plunged ahead. I slowed my pace, to ease the burning in my legs. There was no need to hurry, nothing we could do. Nothing anyone could do.