|
Chapter 50. Silver Thread |
|
 |
hou rested and meditated for the span of a day, giving his mind over to preparation for what was to come. Xiang Yi attended to him when he woke, urging him to take aliment for Zhou was weak from his trials and had lost a great deal of weight. Truthfully, he barely recognized his body now when he chanced a sight of himself in the mirror. He was as bony as death and barely had the stamina to walk the distance of the courtyard. He would recover with the swiftness and ease of the Chosen but he would still need several weeks to undo the ravages of the Elon and the wilderness. If there had been another choice, if he could have waited, Zhou would have. He did not drive himself forward now out of disregard for his health, but because the choices presented to them were so grim. What he did not tell Teleri was that it was quite possible he would fail. If Mabane had gone too far into the Mists or if Zhou were too weak to sustain his projection there, the boy would die. Once the process was started, the ritual ended in life or death. His heart was heavy as he cleansed himself with cedar smoke and water from Melandru’s shrine. The tentative chirps of birds before dawn could not lift his spirits. Even Shikai’s arrival did not cheer him. He stood dripping before the winged goddess, his head bowed in exhaustion. “I have finished compounding the required elixir. I would prefer if you chose someone to go with you,” she said, squeezing his hand upon sensing his dark mood. “If Kazuma were here, I would have asked Ebony. Outside of her, no one else the boy trusts is here right now.” “I would go,” Shikai said although he had already rejected her offer last night. “I need you on this side. You know how to anchor my spirit.” “I know many things,” Shikai replied coldly. Zhou squeezed her hand apologetically. Their time apart weighed heavily upon her and autumn was approaching quickly. She was jealous of his time, resenting that he would not let her share the danger of the ritual. Her anger was also fear that she would lose him and it did not help matters that she had spent all spring and summer concerned for his fate while helpless to recover him. “My love, be at peace. I trust you to protect me where I must go.” “It grows late,” Shikai replied, turning her back to him. At times he had to remember that she viewed him as frail and fleeting when her dragon nature took hold as it did now. Her mind was cold and alien as he sought for her. Sometimes he wondered if she showed fondness because she had to and what he understood to be love was little more than dragon possessiveness. Stung, he trailed her back to the central hall. It had been cleared of its occupants and sealed off so that they would not be disturbed. The sky blushed with the approach of dawn as he arrived panting at the door. Shikai was clutching his hand protectively now and he felt the warmth of her concern. Xiang Yi was at his shoulder guiding him up the steps. “Armand and Brigit have returned to us,” Xiang Yi said calmly, “The boy formed an attachment to him while we traveled in torment. It is not too late to choose someone to assist you.” Zhou caught his breath, angry that his body failed him now when he most needed it. It was too late to ask an uninitiated rogue to join him. His impressions of Armand were of quick temper and evasiveness. In Zhou’s experience, such hardening of the spirit came as a result of dishonesty or harsh experience. He did not have time to find out which. Nor did he wish to risk his life or Mabane’s to an unknown quantity. “I don’t have time to prepare him for this,” Zhou said, attempting to push past Xiang Yi. “I have asked him to come speak to you,” Xiang Yi said quietly, his grip tightening over Zhou’s shoulder and a note of pleading in his voice, “I traveled with him in Torment. He can be trusted and Mabane cleaved to him there and would go to no other. I believe it is auspicious that he has come to us at this time.” He gazed upon Xiang Yi and considered telling him there were scores of other things that were anything but auspicious. Instead, Zhou nodded and allowed Shikai to guide him into the dim interior of the chamber where Mabane lay. The entry hall was normally brightly lit by its high windows and great hearth. Now heavy cloth drove out the daylight and the hearth was cold. A wide circle was marked out on the floor with eight identical white paper lanterns that he and Shikai had prepared the night before. While he had been meditating and cleansing, Shikai had also laid out the shimmering crystal sand in the pattern he required. Mabane lay in repose at the center on the bare wooden floor clad in a fresh bleached linen gown. His hands were folded upon his belly and fresh bandages concealed all but the thumb of his right hand. The boy had not stirred in the short time that Zhou had been home. His greatest concern was that the boy had faced Belenus too willing to die on the behalf of his sister or mother while secretly desiring an escape from his own pain. If such were the case, without the presence of someone he loved or trusted, Mabane might be difficult to convince back to life. Zhou’s intrusion might exacerbate the situation. Xiang Yi did not need to remind him of this, he was all too aware of his failure to connect with Pendaran’s son and student. He had intended to do so in time, but he was awkward with children and often frightened them with his serious demeanor. He knew Matabe had suggested he build the orphanage for this reason and it had rankled him at times. Zhou scowled when he realized he was losing focus already. He should not be thinking about his old master and his failure to understand children. Mabane needed him and he could not fail him as he had failed Pendaran. Standing at the edge of the glistening circle, he raised his head when light poured in from the opening door. Shikai and Ebony watched him with expressions of concern etched on their somber faces. He knew without looking that Xiang Yi was guiding Armand toward him. He could sense the bristling anger of the man and he was reminded again how notoriously sloppy Tyrian mesmers tended to be. Zhou toyed with keeping his back to the man, thinking to test him but decided better of it. If this had any chance of working, he needed to win the man’s respect quickly. “I am glad you have come,” Zhou said, turning slowly and managing a terse smile. Armand was clearly unhappy with the situation. There was a knot of tension glowing around his chest and when he sensed Zhou taking in his aura his blue eyes flashed with rage and he immediately became unreadable. At least this one was not a complete wash. He knew how to ward himself and that would be useful if they came under attack. “What is going on here? Where is Mog?” Armand demanded. “Xiang Yi has not explained the situation?” “I told him Mog is not here…” “...Only after I told you Mog would be better suited than I for this rubbish,” Armand growled, gesturing broadly at the ceremonial circle. “This rubbish is designed to save Mabane’s life,” Zhou said quietly, raising his hand before Xiang Yi could interject, “Trust me, Master Leblanc, you would not be my first choice as an assistant if the situation were not so grave. I come to you now because we are desperate.” “Look, I’m sorry about the kid, but Mog is my friend and if something has happened to him, I want to know about it.” Anger burned down Zhou’s spine and an old part of him wanted to lash out at the impertinent fool. Still, he presented a mask of focused calm beneath the burn of the Tyrian’s pale eyes. “We know that Mog and those who were with him were captured by an old enemy of mine. It is not my intention to abandon them, but Mabane requires my attention first.” “So on the list of people who are imperiled because of you, where exactly does Mog’s welfare rate?” Zhou heard several of the others in the room gasp softly but he found Armand’s directness strangely amusing. “When I am done here, we will discuss Mog’s fate. To do so now would only threaten Mabane’s welfare further and my success or failure in his regard will color how I approach your friend’s safe return. You should know that we have contacted his captors and are negotiating the price of ransom.” Armand stepped back, physically signaling that his desire to argue had ended. He cast his eyes over the carefully prepared room. Something approximating concern softened his features when he saw Mabane lying so still at the center of the circle. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, then sighed angrily, waiting for Zhou to explain. “Mabane may not respond well to me and I understand he had a bond with you.” “Children are not stupid. If he does not trust you, then it is because he knows you failed to protect his master.” Zhou clamped his jaw against a snarl of rage, concealing it under his practiced mantle of calm and dignity. Maybe it was better to go alone after all. “That will be all. I must start now,” Zhou said, glancing at Xiang Yi before turning toward the small altar at the eastern edge of the circle. “So you don’t need me after all?” “I do not trust you, Master Leblanc. You are opinionated, fiery and stubborn. While admirable in mundane situations, such an attitude might lead to death where I go.” “Are you calling me a coward?” “No, I am saying you are an undisciplined fool. I do not doubt you are a fearsome opponent or that you are fearless in defense of yourself or your allies.” Zhou was done. At this point he must focus on what was to come and move past his anger and disappointment at the delay. Uttering a soft chant to center himself, he knelt at the altar and awaited Shikai’s ministrations. “So you think because I didn’t grow calluses on my rear end studying in a dusty academy during my youth I’m somehow inferior?” “It is best if we discussed your grievances at a more appropriate time.” “Don’t touch me!” Armand growled as someone tried to guide him out of the room so that the ritual could begin, “Do you really believe Mabane will die if I don’t go?” Zhou sighed. Armand was as persistent as a migraine. “Xiang Yi and Shikai believe I am too weak in my current state to go alone. And yes, if Mabane rejects me, he will die.” “I won’t have the boy’s death on my conscience.” “I do not intend to fail, Master Leblanc.” “And you won’t on my watch. What am I supposed to do?” Zhou tried to hide his amusement, particularly when he heard his friends rumbling with annoyance. “It is time you left,” Xiang Yi said with an unusual harshness in his voice. “No, let him stay. We asked him to come and now he chooses to do so of his own volition. Shikai and Ebony will prepare us together. Come, kneel beside me on my right side.” Zhou saw Armand hesitate at the sound of Ebony’s name. “If you don’t mind, Master Bei, I think perhaps we should invite Brigit to come sit with him,” the necromancer said. “Very well, but quickly.” “You fear the servants of Grenth,” Zhou murmured, “I hope your fear does not extend into his realm.” “I do not fear them, I loathe them. There is a difference.” “Fear is the foundation of hatred.” Armand snorted but said nothing more, flinching when Shikai looped a silvery cord around each of their waists and knotted it to herself. He grudgingly clasped Zhou’s hand when she instructed them to do so and a mixture of alarm and outrage flickered across his face when she used a length of the same cord to bind their wrists to one another. Zhou continued to project an outer appearance of calm but it was difficult when he was torn between disciplining and laughing at his unusual partner. And with a pang of sadness he realized how much he missed Pendaran and how none of this would now be necessary if he were there. “Where we are going is a place of unshaped potential. It lies between what we know on this plane and what is beyond in the Mists. Thought gives it form and some believe a part of us goes there when we dream and it is how reality is shaped.” “I see.” “Often when people are lost between life and death or have confusion about their existence, they go to this place. Sometimes only a part of them goes there and what remains on this plane is an insane shadow of what they once were,” Zhou said significantly, “It is a dangerous place for the undisciplined mind.” “And I am tied to you and Shikai for what reason?” “Shikai… has talents that extend into this realm. She will try to draw us back if there is danger or if we become overwhelmed for various reasons.” “Overwhelmed by what?” Zhou hesitated. He needed to be honest and yet he was once again having doubts about taking someone with him without knowing how they would react. He trusted Armand would not let his imagination run wild there. He was a stubborn man and had survived into adulthood with his natural talents. That in itself proved he had the ability to focus his mind at need. “It is a place inimical to life and you will quickly grow weary. Ebony will perform certain rites to empower us, but over time, these measures will fail. Longings and old emotions that still have a deep hold on the psyche are particularly dangerous. It is important to stay focused and not cave in to any visions no matter how real they seem.” The tense silence was disturbed now by Brigit’s arrival. Xiang Yi must have told her what to expect for her face was pale as she sat down outside the circle. “I’m here, Armee,” she said, keeping her voice low. Armand managed a tense smile for her, then turned his attention back to the matter at hand. Shikai was kneeling before them now, her dark kohl-rimmed eyes searching Zhou’s face with a mixture of concern and sorrow. He nodded at her to proceed and she pressed a small silver goblet into their free hands. Armand seemed about to protest but saw the look of dismay in Shikai’s face and decided against it. Following Zhou’s example he quickly downed the frigid shimmering liquid in a single swallow. “Close your eyes,” Zhou instructed him, “I will open the way now while Shikai blindfolds us. Do not be alarmed.” Which was easier said than done. Zhou felt Armand stiffen beside him as the sensation of floating took hold. It was a nauseating experience, like being cast upward into water as the ground fell away at a sickening pace. Focusing on a point directly above them, he raised his right hand still clenched over Armand’s clammy palm and etched an opening with a quick gesture. Light and color swirled past them and his eyes looked now upon the place between two realms. The two of them were forged of translucent silver, swift as thought as they pushed through the ether, the gleaming cord around their waists coiling away beneath them like fishing line into a depthless black pool. For an instant he lost his bearings and thought he might be plunging head down into the depths but he felt the rush of cold wind against his uplifted arms and resumed their flight. “What is this place?” Armand demanded, “What did you put in that potion?” “Focus, we are not there yet.” Mist and cloud swirled past them limed with flashes of color and potential. Even now Shikai would be binding them to Mabane, guiding them subtly from her place within the circle as Ebony monitored their condition. Zhou hoped he was successful this time. It was only his fifth such journey and two of them had gone very badly indeed. But he had saved Pendaran last time, he reminded himself, although it had nearly cost them both of their lives. It was better to have an ally along, that was ever the meaning of the Lyssan bond. And now they broke through the fog and he saw their silver forms gleaming beneath the light of brilliant stars flashing against a depthless sky. The ground beneath them was a shimmering field of silky white pouring away in every direction. Armand gazed upon their strange surroundings, his translucent visage a mask of confusion. “Marc?” he murmured, “Is that you?” Zhou followed Armand’s stricken gaze and saw nothing at all. “I thought you had died… I meant to come back. I never meant to part in anger.” “Armand, what you are seeing is not real. Focus now and push it away.” He felt Armand trembling, his grief and shame palpable, amplified. Zhou had no choice but to draw him away, force him to move or risk losing him. “I thought he died…” “He is dead except in your memory,” Zhou replied gently, “Come, we have little time.” Shikai’s guidance made visible the path they must take. A glowing filament of light burned from the union of their hands and trailed off into the blinding distance. It was formless only for a moment. To Zhou’s dismay the gleaming nothingness transformed into the pleasant richness of forest loam and thick bracken. The whir of cicadas and chatter of jungle creatures spoke of untamed Maguuma, a place Zhou had only visited once during his service to Orr. Armand was trembling, his eyes seeing things that existed in his mind alone and hopefully remained there. “Focus, none of this is real.” “They’re here… gods, I killed them, they can’t be…” “Armand, listen to me.” They drew to a halt in a small jungle clearing, the foliage rustling with the surreptitious approach of something large and menacing. “Close your eyes, clear your mind.” “They’re here,” he protested, “Don’t let them see you.” “They don’t exist any more. Remember destroying them,” he said, trying to keep the pleading from his voice. Gods, they did not have time to battle with some phantom of the long dead past. He clasped Armand’s other hand and tightened his grasp almost to the point of pain, “This is real. Focus on it. I need you to listen to me and trust my words.” Armand swallowed and nodded. To Zhou’s relief, the jungle faded out of existence and the formless brilliance returned beneath the endless sky. Once more they were made of starlight, untouchable. Without another word, Zhou guided him toward their destination, relieved when Mabane emerged from the formless mist and lay curled on the ground in an attitude of exhaustion. And now the world took form again, gray and cold, the landscape pierced with spines of rock and scoured by an icy wind. It was the place of lost souls, the last stop before Grenth’s judgment and the embrace of eternity. All Mabane had to do was rise and go to the great doors that shimmered on the horizon. It was clear by his proximity to that place he had considered it but was too weary and grief stricken to decide. “Do you see him?” Zhou asked in a low voice, trying not to be overheard by the boy. They stooped now behind an ice-rimed mound of rocks gazing down on the shivering form. He seemed so small and helpless. His loneliness was intense and stung Zhou’s sensitive mind. Armand appeared to be overwhelmed and merely leaned against the stone, blinking and weary. “Yes… poor kid.” “I would prefer that you be the first to approach him. I have reason to believe he will rise and flee from me and if he does, we may lose him,” Zhou said, gesturing significantly toward the gates to Grenth’s hall. He did not need to tell Armand what that place signified. It was an instinctive thing. They were part of Mabane’s nightmare now. His vision and all of his fears were manifest and they breathed it in and trod upon its frigid essence. “Untie me. I want to approach him alone.” Zhou hesitated, given what he had experienced so far. That connection had saved them, whether Armand knew that or not. A compromise then. He quickly loosed the knot but made a loop at each end so that they stayed connected even at a distance of several paces. Then he knelt behind the rocks as Armand moved slowly toward the child and stooped a few paces from him so that he appeared less threatening. “Mabane,” Armand said, speaking as he might to a frightened animal, “Mab, do you hear me?” The small form stirred and lifted his pale face to gaze blearily upon Armand’s kneeling form. “Uncle Armand?” “Yes, Mab.” “How did you get here?” the boy asked, mildly alarmed and yet relieved to see a friendly face. “I’ve been worried about you. Everyone who loves you is worried. I’ve come to take you home.” Mabane sniffled and began to cry, holding himself as he rocked, his pain searing through Zhou and no doubt having a similar effect on Armand. “Mab, let me hold you,” Armand coaxed, “It’s not good to cry alone.” “I don’t want to go back,” Mabane sobbed, “It hurts.” “I know it does.” The cord between them grew taut as Armand edged closer and finally eased the boy into his arms to hold him, rocking him slowly as his emotions ebbed and flowed. Even as the chill of that domain settled into Zhou’s bones he was buoyed by the hope that Mabane was one step closer to safety. He realized Xiang Yi and Shikai had been right. Zhou would have failed where Armand was masterfully succeeding. It was not simply that Armand could be a sturdy shelter in his storm of grief, but the man understood what the boy needed. “Is my sister alright?” Mabane murmured into Armand’s shoulder. “Yes. She is being well looked after.” “And my mother? Is someone looking after her?” “Of course. I brought Brigit home and she’s your mom’s best friend. Brigit will help her feel better.” “Did I kill Belenus?” Armand hesitated and Zhou realized it was an error not to tell him what had happened to Mog’s brother. “Whatever befell Belenus, it was his choice,” Armand said carefully, stroking the boy’s back, “I want you to come home now. This is no place for a talented young man. You have a whole life ahead of you.” “But I want to find Pen… he’s here, I know he is. I saw him.” “Then if that is the case, we need to go home and prepare. Look at you? You’re freezing and you need to get your hurts looked after.” “But he needs me,” Mabane whimpered. “I know, but what would he say if I let you go after him like that?” Mabane hesitated, then looked at the angry suppurating burns on his hand and arm. “He’d be angry.” “Master Bei would like to help as well,” Armand said, testing the waters. “I don’t like Master Bei. He ran away and won’t come back and Pendaran needs him.” “I think you’re being harsh, Mab. Don’t you think Master Bei cares about you and Pen?” “Maybe,” Mabane murmured, “He cared enough to bring me here to find you. Is it alright if he comes over to see you?” Mabane nodded but would not release Armand. Zhou struggled to his feet, the oppressive chill of the place finally taking its toll on him. He could see by the paleness of Armand’s features that he was beginning to feel it as well. “Hello, Master Bei,” Mabane said, his eyes round with surprise as he gazed up at Zhou. “I am very glad to see you again, Mabane.” “Are you going to find Pen?” “I will not rest until I have, my son.” “I want to go home, now,” Mabane said sleepily, “Will you take me home, Uncle?” “Of course, Mab.” Zhou moved slowly to the other side of the boy so that he was encircled by he and Armand. Focusing inward now, he sought for Shikai, reaching across the barrier of dream and ether until he felt her hand clasping his and heard the sound of her name coming from his throat. He called to her and she drew him back, her hands warm upon his face as he shuddered awake, gasping and exhausted. Armand moaned beside him and Zhou smiled blearily at Brigit fussing over the weary form of her beloved. “Mabane?” he croaked. Shikai smiled and lowered her face to kiss his brow. “Xiang Yi is with him. He came back to us.” Zhou saw how the candles now guttered in their liquid pools of wax, hours having passed in the short time they had been gone. Shikai signaled to Ebony and the woman rose stiffly, exhausted as well from giving her energy so freely to power their travel. “Rest now, my love. Your beds have been prepared and a meal awaits you both. We will celebrate on the morrow.” |
