The Far Side Of Forever Part 1

SHARON GREEN.

THE FAR SIDE OF FOREVER.

PROLOGUE.

Laciel

The room was colder than a small room should be, but not in front of the blazing fire where she sat. The fire jumped and crackled, trying to get the attention of the uncaring gray stone all around it, but didn't even succeed in getting the girl's attention. She sat in the overstuffedtirown leather armchair, relaxed but intent on something she seemed able to see in the air in front of thtf'fire and hearth, something mat seemed to excite her. Her violet eyes glowed in the firelight and one lock of her platinum blond hair had fallen over her right shoulder, but other than that she sat unmov~ ing and unspeaking.

Beside her chair, to the left, the dim, warm air stirred and began to thicken and darken, increasing until it was deep black and palpable, beating and pulsing with obvious life- In the midst of the living cloud were two red eyes, blazing as hot as the fire, intelligent and aware and con- scious of power in a way most beings never achieved. The eyes looked around, saw the girt and the way she stared, narrowed very briefly with disturbance, then widened again.

The black cloud immediately began stirring a second time, and in five heartbeats it had a.s.sumed a form that was definitely feline in nature, four legs, large body, long tail, big head and pointed ears. All black but for the two red, burning eyes, which fastened themselves on the motion- less. oblivious girl.

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"If you try it, you're a fool." the black beast-cloud said to her, its voice low and nearly all snarling growl. "More minds are lost on that plane than ever make it back, usually because they try it before they're ready. You're doing the same thing."

"I think 1'hear someone calling you, InThig," the girl answered with faint annoyance, her eyes still on whatever she saw. "Why don't you go home and see what they want?"

"You're scarcely amusing, girl," the beast InThig growled, stretching its big body out on the stone beside the girl's chair. "I'm aware of the fact that you don't care to have people express concern for you, but I'm not people.

And I'm only thinking of your safety."

"Demons aren't supposed to be concerned," the giri observed, still not looking at me being she addressed.

"They're also not supposed to think of people's safety.

You're a disgrace to the legends, InThig, and should be ashamed of yourself. If I'd been the one to summon you, f'dbe ashamed."

"Happily, your foster mother has more sense than that,"

InThig replied, the growl turning dry as the blaze in the eyes sharpened. "If I could have reached her where she's traveling and brought her back with me, she would be telling you the same thing. Going to explore that plane BOW is reckless madness."

"If I were ten years old, it would be reckless madness,"

the girl came back, her annoyance rising so high that she shifted in the chair. "Since I'm twenty-two and have been a full sorceress for me last five years, it's nothing more than necessary research. One must expand with one's growth, otherwise one ceases growing."

"The witch apprentice Nedra did not achieve the plane on her own," InThig persisted, the claws on its front feet curiing into (he stone with a chill-making sc.r.a.pe. "Borinthin the wizard sent her in and out, taking a simple payment both before and afterward. Borinthin has always been attracted to you; if you're determined to go through with this insanity, why not approach him as Nedra did and. . ."

The demon's voice went on and on, but the giri had stopped listening. She knew what Nedra had done to achieve

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me plane, but she wasn't about to do the same. The next time she saw mat prancing, preening Nedra, she'd have achieved the plane herself, without having had to buy any favors. Then it would be her turn to crow.

Her eyes were still on the point of s.p.a.ce in front of the hearth. Seeing there not empty s.p.a.ce, but the entry she'd called into existence- Some entries occurred naturally and only had to be found, and those were called gates; some, however, needed to be created before they were available for use, and those were the most dangerous. They gave access to planes that had no relation to human beings in any way, places in which humans could not long survive.

For the unSighted to go to many of those places would be instant death, to remain there permanently in safety impos- sible even for wizards. All the Sighted could do was visit for a while, and that was all Laciel was going to do. She rose from the chair in one fluid motion, stepped two s.p.a.ces forward, and was gone from me room.

Her determination carried her another three paces past the entry into the plane on the other side, and then she stopped in startlement and awe to look around. Everyone had always said that that plane was indescribably beauti- ful. but the words they'd used yere pale and flat in the face of the actual thing. Rather than feeling dangerous the place chimed with lovely welcome, crystal song adorning crystal lace, colors such as she'd never seen before, shapes that caught the eye and held it. It was filled with the breathy whispers of lovers, the delight of small children, the inno- cence of a wholesome heart, the dearest hopes ever to be dreamt of; she was instantly entranced as she looked around, her mind no longer alert for what danger there might be.

Danger was unknown in a place like that, always had been and always would be.

The time rate of her own dimension was unknown in that other place, but after a thousand heartbeats she was distracted from her stroll through the overwhelming beauty by the awareness that her lungs were beginning to labor.

The golden rose that had been bom through her desire to see it still lay fragrantly on her palm, but its perfume was no longer reaching her as easily as it had. She knew then that it was time to return through the entry, and turned to her left to find the shadowy gate only two steps away.

Slowly and with great reluctance she took those two steps and then the necessary third-but found her surroundings unchanged. Chiming loveliness still lay everywhere, laugh- ing softly in shared'happiness, and the gate shadow was now three steps to the right. Her heart began to pound with effort as this time she moved to the right, but once again stepping through the gate took her nowhere but four steps over along the singing plane. She had gone twice through the entry and still hadn't left, and then, as fear began to rise to accompany shortness of breath, she finally understood.

The plane was not only endlessly beautiful, it also cre- ated its visitors* fondest wishes; it would create an image of the entry anywhere Laciel wanted it, but none of those images would be the real thing. It had taken two days for the giri to See through to the actual entry, two days in her own world. From that side a new entry would take at least as long, but the air she had brought through with her would last no longer than another pair of minutes.

In desperation the young sorceress began to really look at the nearest curtain of crystal lace, fully intending to change it into the air she needed to breathe, but under her stare the curtain shifted, dissolved, and left behind it- nothing. She blinked in shock, withdrawing her stare-and me curtain glimmered back to life, resuming its place among the other curtains and veils and trailing leaves and tall, delicate pastel fountains. None of it was real. none of it had substance, and she was already gasping; there was nothing in reach with which to make the air she needed, and the pounding in her head increased and expanded. She was close to blacking out, she knew, close to the end with no hope of finding her way back, and then the hand appeared in front of her. . . .

// - Rikkan Addis

It was heavily overcast that night, and even darker in the forests all. around them, but none of that was helping.

The small group of men had already split up and melted away from each other in me humid dark, trying to confuse

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their pursuers, but that wasn't going to help either. They were being tracked by the soul-leeches that had picked them up at the castle, and soul-leeches couldn't be shaken off- He had told them that just before he had left them, wanting them to know just what their lies had bought them all, and then he had slipped off into the dark, ignoring their hissed demands that he return. A moment later they, too, had chosen separate directions, all except the two who had been so badly wounded they needed help to keep moving. If they hadn't kept moving, they would have died that much sooner.

He was a shadow among shadows as he made his way deeper into the woods, but one that cursed silently even as he sharpened his senses to their limit. He had been a fool to believe those people when they'd told him they were fighting for their freedom, a fool to let their idealistic lectures keep him from looking around a bit more care- iully. They'd begged him to lead them in their revolt, had pressed their gold on him even before the attack just to demonstrate their faith and good will, they'd wined him and dined him and then had insisted he choose from that group of very willing and very eager females. The time with the girls had been pleasant enough, but if he hadn't really believed the men needed him to help them find their dignity as men, he never would have gotten involved. The baron was an evil usurper, they had told him, one who stole their young men for his army and their young girls for his bed. He had to be stopped for the sake of every villager in every village in the district, otherwise they were all doomed to endless depravity.

Just before they had attacked the castle, he had accidentally come across the real reason they wanted the baron attacked.

The night sounds of the forest had long since resumed all around him, but suddenly a distant scream rang out, silencing the daik-dwellers who had no desire to bring attention to themselves. Immediately he went motionless, his ears straining for sounds of the pursuit that had just caught the first of his former comrades, his head up as he tasted me messages borne upon the faint breeze, his eyes blazing even in the smothering dark. Bronze-colored those eyes were, dominating all of his tall, broad form, filled

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now with self-recrimination and self-disgust. He'd seen the popinjay just before they'd left their camp to attack the castle, the silk-covered fop clearly having no intention of going with them, and had heard one of the men make some ribald comment about die former baron's nephew.

He'd been too busy shifting the men into position to think about what he'd seen and heard, but once the attack started and it was too late to call it off, the truth had finally come home to him.

He began moving soundlessly through the forest again, this time cursing the men who had lied to him. Rather man being a usurper the current baron was the rightful heir, something made completely clear the moment me castle's defenses had activated, it was the popinjay who was the attempted usurper, and he had failed to tetl his greedy followers that the castle itself would protect its rightful inhabitant. The old baron's nephew had probably known mat if the attacking force was targe enough and determined enough at least a few of them would break through, and had therefore decided not to mention anything else. Like the defense that had made men go up in pretty-colored smoke in me middle of their screaming charge. Like the defense that made the ground open to swallow up others.

Like the ghost shapes that had flowed through the castle walls to drink the life from any man they touched. Like me soul-leeches that had picked up the trail of the few survi- vors, following them away from the castle and into the woods. No man had stayed to break into the castle, so the popinjay had outsmarted himself. Faced with the horrify- ingly unexpected, his surviving followers had cut and run, leaving none to a.s.sa.s.sinate the baron for him.

A second scream came then, this time comprised of two voices, increasing his pace rather than halting it. If he could stay far enough ahead of the leeches to make it out of the district, they would no longer be a danger. They couldn't live beyond the boundaries of their own district and they knew it, so once he was out they would not pursue him. His night vision showed him the faint trail he was following, helping him to move soundlessly even in his hurry, but it simply wasn't enough. Those behind him were moving even faster, and didn't care about how much noise they made. They had quarry to catch, and weren't about to be denied.

When he heard the crashing in the underbrush he knew he'd lost the race, but it wasn't in him to simply give up.

He stopped and spun about, knowing they'd be on him in another minute, but he still had the time to compose himself for a final stand. Ignoring the heavy sword hung scabbarded at his side he stood staring back up the trail with his eyes blazing, a blaze that quickly began to spread to the rest of him. As the blaze spread his body changed, his form glowing and shifting and melting, until a giant bronze beast with dripping fangs and eager claws stood in his place. That was another reason they'd wanted him so badly, telling him his link-shape was the only thing that could breech the baron's final defenses, and he'd had no reason men to disbelieve them. His link-shape could do quite a lot that was beyond most ordinary mortals, but it had never before faced soul-leeches. If it had any power over them, he would soon know.

The crashing through the underbrush turned abruptly into forms charging at him out of the darkness, too many to count, too many to avoid. The soul-leeches were small, but their mouths gaped wide "with needle-pointed teeth, their claws dripped paralyzing venom, and me pads at the bottoms of their feet were suckers, designed to hold to their victim until he was dead and drained. Their victim snarled, swiped across with the claws of one giant paw and men leaped aside, but the effort had done no more man delay the inevitable. More than half a dozen of the bone- white leeches lay twitching and dying, but the rest were gathering themselves to fly at him again. He snarled his frustrated fury and backed a step, knowing that this time some of them would have him, knowing that the end of his days had now been found, but just as they began to throw themselves in his direction a hand appeared before him. . . .

/// - Targa Emmen Su Daylath

The sun was not simply hot, and was no longer far, far above the land. She knew it had lowered itself to only a

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few feet above her head, and now tried determinedly to melt her into a pool of broiled, greasy flesh. She was still up on her feet and still moving, but her eyes had taken to closing even as her feet trudged on, and her mind was beginning to wander.

"Fool woman," she croaked, speaking to herself aloud again in an effort to recapture her attention. "Found the tracks and followed them, made sure you didn't lose them, but didn't realize until much too late how far they'd led you. Middle of the desert they took you,'too far out to walk back, then killed your mount. Too smart for animals, those animals, and now you're the one who's dead. Tribe will starve for sure if the other hunters are the same kind of fools, but you won't know it. Another day at least to any kind of water, and you won't make it."

She grunted agreement with herself as her feet dragged across the flat, sandy barren, the pain of those steps just another thing to add to all the rest. The flaming sun b.u.med down on die sand as well as herself, and walking through it barefoot, had become agony. She could close her eyes against the blinding glare all about, but wrapping her feet had proven impossible. Her leather shirt had cut into wrap- pings easily enough, but they hadn't stayed where they'd been put. They'd fallen off when her attention had wan- dered, and by the time she'd noticed they were far behind her. Lack of water was doing that to her, and the heat and the trail that she couldn't afford to lose. As long as she kept her attention on the trail, it didn't matter whether or not she could see it; she could feel its proper place and therefore follow it. If once she lost that trail, though, she knew she would never be able to find it again.

"d.a.m.n fool woman," she muttered almost silently, her sand-dry mouth and tongue and throat refusing to produce any more in the way of sound. "Why don't you just fall down and give it up?"

She considered that suggestion for a minute, liking the way it sounded, but for some reason couldn't do it. When she fell for the final time it would be soon enough to just lie there, so she didn't have to bother about doing it now.

Also she was a hunter, and hunters didn't do things like that.