Flash Fiction #543: The Long Way Home/42 (END)

 

They were in a carriage, and he lay on a bed of soft pillows. Eket sat beside him.

"Awake now. Good," Eket said. "I cannot stay. There is no telling what Aien is up to. Humans are odd creatures, you know. Fascinating. I don't understand half of why you have done what you did."

"Right thing to do," Rory replied as if this made any sense. "Pyrida?"

"He will be a long time trapped in his nightmare and no more sane for it. That will not help when you fight them in the future. However, it was the best choice you could've made. Also, he put a spell on the Temple and library -- it went up in flames. You will find no answers there, but neither will anyone else."

"The others there --"

"All safe. They will rebuild and be better for it with Pyrida no longer in charge."

"Good," Rory said. Talking to Eket made no sense, but he somehow didn't doubt it. He worried about his other friends, but they didn't seem to be here with them.

" They're in another ..." Eket waved his hand around them.

"Carriage?"

"Reality."  Eket paused and then looked back at him. "You needed time and peace to begin your recovery, and now it is time for you to return."

"Can you tell me --"

Eket had disappeared. The carriage bounced over a rut, and Rory grimaced before he noticed Zorian, Keltrina, and Jamison staring at him.

"You are back," Zorian said.

"Ah.  Eket had me for a while."

They all nodded as if any of this made sense. Zorian finally moved from one side to sit by Rory. He looked him over with a nod.

"You look better. Eket did us a good deed there, even if we were afraid we had lost you. It was a very nice act of human kindness in its own way."

Rory could tell that the words pleased Eket.  Why the God should want to be more human-like escaped Rory, but he did appreciate that they understood each other better for it.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"In the middle of nowhere, as far as I can tell," Jamison answered with a quick glance out the window in the door. They hit another bump, and Rory wasn't the only one to feel it. "The Queen and Prince Palkin are in the carriage behind us. We have a Sciwhen escort under Andora's command."

"We should not have gone. There was so much still to do --"

Zorian patted him on the arm. "There is always more to do, but that doesn't mean it is our work. Unanik has taken on the duty of destroying The New Order of Man and was doing an excellent job before we left. The Dragons are taking turns guarding the door. I could wish for Pyrida to come back out to that homecoming."

"We are all stepping back and letting things sort themselves out," Jamison added. He looked remarkably relaxed.

Out of their hands?

Rory sat back and closed his eyes.

It took them five miserable days to get to Sundry and two more to reach the capital. They stayed in whatever reasonable inns they could find each night, and none of those housed the Queen and her more immediate guests for an entire night. They always left early, and since the beds were always lumpy and the rooms drafty, Rory never complained.

He thought about the odd journey he had made to Sciwhen and now Sciwhen home to Sundry. Gods hovered nearby but stayed out of human business for now.   Rory tried not to be obvious about how relieved that left him.

Eket still seemed amused.

They traveled through fields, over wooded hills, and across streams on none-too-safe bridges. They avoided any settlement of more than a few hundred and kept well off the main roads.

And yet, the word that the Queen had returned had raced ahead of them.

Rory hadn't been home for a long time and was glad to see so little change. There might have been a few more buildings outside the gate, but they were well-kept. The castle towers rose above the walls, a beacon to welcome them home. People lined the road inside the entrance all the way to the castle. Rory thought he would go deaf at the sound of their cheers.

While Queen Calledona went to her throne room without even so much as changing, the others were hustled off into her private office. Rory didn't even argue about taking one of the chairs. It was, by far, the most comfortable place he had sat in far too long.

He slept for a little while, not an unusual occurrence. Rory stood, though, as soon as the Queen entered the room. She waved them all to sit, and Rory obediently dropped back into his chair. Four members of the Queen's guard had shown up to keep her company, and they all but glared at Rory. He had been one of them.

No matter.

"People are arranging for your rooms," Queen Calledona said as if that were the only trouble she needed to deal with now that she was back. "Rory, Zorian -- I would like you two to take the rooms up at the archive. You needn't worry. Lord Cardman retired a few months ago."

"I wasn't worried about Cardman," Zorian said, and Rory nodded. "Well, not much. But yes, that is a good place to start our work. Do you agree, Rory?"

He thought of making some rude remark about not having asked him until now...

But an odd feeling came over him when he thought about staying here and not returning to the Temple of Eket -- at least not yet.

Stay here and work in the archive.

He smiled. "Yes, that works well. It is good to be home at last."

The End

Flash Fiction # 542 -- The Long Way Home/41

 

"No," Zorian said. "I will not allow it."

The words amused Rory at first. He had never heard his companion sound so pretentious before. But then the words did something else. It formed a spell that caught at the tattered edges of his thoughts and forcibly pulled him back to where he really didn't want to go.

Rory put up a fight.

"Stop that, you fool! At least now I am stronger than you, and I will not let you slip away."

There was a pause, and Rory felt Zorian distracted by some other problem. He almost tried to break free of the hold, but he sensed Zorian's real worry and didn't want to take him away from some other problem.

Something.

Rory couldn't fully connect to that world where Zorian stood. Where Zorian fought a magical battle and still held on to Rory, who only wanted to go away and rest...

Did he really want to die?

Maybe that wasn't as important a question as another one. Did he want to give up the battle and not help to save the others?

Even asking that question brought him closer to the world filled with yells, howls, and pain.

Zorian didn't need to call him back after all.

Rory opened his eyes to find Zorian and Jamison fighting back two enraged dragons. Keltrina had picked up a bow but seemed reluctant to use it. Good. It would not do anything against those metal-like plates on the dragon's bodies, and if she hit a weak spot, it was likely to annoy the dragon more.

Rory's hand felt like it was on fire, but he shoved that pain behind a wall -- something good Pyrida had taught him. Then he stood, shocking Zorian, who at first gave him a mistrustful glance.

Pyrida had yet to notice.

Rory didn't even wait to get his footing. He threw himself at Pyrida, who was just out of reach to the left of the dragons. The man saw Rory and snarled, bringing up a ball of power that he threw --

But Rory had already thrown himself on the ground and used a little magic to slide forward and knock him down.  

Pyrida was already so weak that he couldn't get back up and couldn't keep control of the dragons. The sudden roar from the two of them brought Rory back to his feet, wondering if the dragons would realize who was an enemy and who was not.

The arrival of Greenal helped there. It even freed Zorian to come and help Rory. Greenal had no trouble directing the other two at the real enemy, and they kept Pyrida busy.

"He wants away," Rory said, holding his injured hand to his chest. He put a shield of sorts, like a glove over it to stop the bleeding. "Door -- do you see the door? Does it lead out?"

"Not out," Zorian said. "Deeper into this nightmare. Let him go."

Rory didn't want him to go because it meant the man would come back again at some point. Rory didn't want to deal with him again, or worse, to consider a time when he was no longer around.

Or had Eket changed all of that?

This was not the time to consider such a future. Rory had to take care of the problems here and now. Pyrida might be heading to that door to grab other power from beyond it, or he might be running to safety.

Rory bet on a panicked run for safety. He had already noted that the nightmare into which they had fallen was slipping away and edges of reality pressing close enough to touch.  

So when Zorian started to cast a spell toward the man, Rory stumbled into him, and Zorian lost the magic.

"Sorry," Rory mumbled. "Let him go. Need time."

Zorian didn't want to agree until Rory shook his head and hoped the man understood he had more in mind.

"Must reach the door," Rory said aloud, all that he dared say where Pyrida could hear. Zorian had no idea what he intended, but he and Rory pursued the mage. Pyrida gave a laugh of panicked glee when he reached the door and threw it open.  

Rory sensed the evil there more than he saw it, and he didn't care. Rory threw himself at the door, grabbed hold of it was a power he didn't think he still had and pulled the closed again. Had a brief view of Pyrida's startled face as the door slammed closed with him on the other side.

"I don't think we have enough power to destroy the door," Zorian said with a touch of panic all his own.

"Not destroy," Rory said, his voice soft and his hands shaking. "Sealed. Trapped. As long as this exists, Pyrida will focus his power here to get back out into our reality. His nightmare is shrinking, and he is losing the outer shells. We want them trapped in this one."

Rory knew he didn't have any more time to explain. He lifted his hands, traced the pattern of the door in the air, and then sealed it shut with a glowing red spell.

Zorian added a spell of his own, the power Bright calling blue as it overlaid the red and braided in with it. Unexpectedly, the three dragons added their own magic. Rory was starting to think that even a God would have trouble escaping this trap.

The last of Pyrida's magic dissipated as the light of day reached them again. Rory had already noted that the man's powers beginning so much that some of his nightmare had disappeared before he went through that door. Now all that remained of him was that door hidden behind layers of magic.

Everything seemed remarkably calm and quiet. Rory looked at Zorian with surprise, but before he could say anything, Rory started to fall forward…

Flash Fiction #541 -- The Long Way Home/40

 

Annoyance was not the best sort of power to tap. It was almost alien to Rory, who had spent most of his life working to stay calm in the face of aggravating situations at Court and the Temple. Annoyance did not come naturally to him.

Now he had to work fast to learn how to control it. Two of the threads had already attached to his legs and tried to force him to move toward Pyrida.

And besides that, the guards were still fighting Zorian as if they felt no change. The magical strings had meant nothing to them at all.

Yes, that was annoying.

Rory leaned over and grabbed both threads, fought them from twining around his arms, and shoved them at each other, surging magic through his hands to divert them from him and back to Pyrida.

The former Temple Master was not pleased when they snapped their attention to him and surged to take hold of his legs.

Rory knew he had the power to fight Pyrida. He also knew he had never worked hard enough on offensive moves. His plan had always been to protect himself and others, and Rory dared not hold to that idea now. Pyrida would just bombard him until he could no longer help anyone.

"Eket, help me," he whispered as he had so often back at the Temple.

Forgetting he was the high priest now and Eket was far too close by.

"Why do you call me?"

Zorian had moved closer to Rory. Now he leapt aside in haste. Pyrida all but howled at what must have looked like a betrayal to him. It upset him, and it upset his magic.

That was all Rory needed.  

"My apologies," he said with a bow of his head to Eket. He thought he ought to do more than that, but not now. Pyrida had started to yell, and Rory rushed past Eket and threw himself at Pyrida.

Pyrida would never have taught Rory such a move, and Rory knew that made it better than any of the movements they'd studied at the Temple. He had to consciously not follow what Pyrida had all but worked into his soul after all the years of training under him.

It was not easy, especially when Pyrida, unsettled, even more, lost control and stumbled backward -- and his nightmare world surged up around them, even worse than before.

Before this, Rory had seen the nightmare. Now he felt it. Blackness caressed his face with promises of evil he could not even name. He heard Zorian make a sound of disgust and tried to move closer to his companion. They needed to join powers before they were both forever lost. Pyrida's control would grow stronger.

Rory brushed against Zorian and grabbed his arm.

Pyrida, not Zorian.

This was both dangerous and the best opportunity he'd had so far. Rory had shocked Pyrida. The man's pale face had a covering of thin black lines that moved with frantic haste and even more so once Pyrida realized the danger to himself.

Rory had no idea what the lines were ... except they reminded him of ink on a page, writing something too fast to read. It could not be a good story.

Rory could do nothing until he knew the magic of the lines. He had to take a chance, so he quickly slapped his hand on the side of Pyrida's face, feeling the magic out as best he could.

It was the wrong thing to do.

The magic swarmed from Pyrida to him, covering his hand in a moving black glove of burning power. It wanted him, and he would not let it -- as long as he could hold the power back from his head. Not easy. Pyrida, although he didn't want to lose that power, didn't help except to weaken Rory every time he had to fight the man away again.

He dared not lose. Rory realized his own powers would be subsumed to another purpose and one he would not like. Someone long dead held this power, taking over Pyrida but finding him lacking.  

Rory would not fall. He kept the burning lines to his hand, forced himself to fight it despite the pain -- pushed it away.

It would not go.

He would fail.

Except he was not alone. Zorian arrived in a flash of light, his sword in hand and a look of worry and determination on his face. He grabbed Rory by the shoulder, and new magic swept down his arm and helped hold it at bay.

But even with Zorian's power, they could not win.

"Kill me."

"No," Zorian said with an emphatic shake of his head. "Wouldn't work. It would still take you and your power. I have a different idea. I'm sorry."

The sword whipped around and drove point first into his hand. Not an ordinary sword, and it glowed with power. The new pain finally drove Rory to his knees, losing his battle for control. He thought the lines would take him then, but he became slowly aware that the sword burnt away that magic line-by-line.

Rory believed he would not survive. His heart labored, and his hand bled in dozens of scratches while Zorian held to his arm and chanted magic that Rory could not feel. The world was going darker than the nightmare.

Pyrida fell first, and the link between him and Rory disappeared, though the last of the lines still tried to win their place. Zorian still fought, his body trembling, the sword moving more erratically now. With the last of his own power, and despite the pain, Rory reached out and steadied his friend's hand.

Zorian looked down at him with unfeigned shock.

"Thank you, my friend," Rory whispered.

And then he closed his eyes. The last of the lines had been destroyed, the sword pulled away -- and Rory let go.

Flash Fiction #540 -- The Long Way Home/39

 

It was one thing to know Pyrida had gone mad, but another to be pulled into the nightmare with him. It was as if the magical blow to the top of the head had opened the door to somewhere else -- a dark, forbidding place. The essence of Pyrida stood there like a black stone with arms, reaching to pull him in and destroy him.

"Rory!" Zorian yelled somewhere close by -- and yet in another universe. "Oh no. You can't have him!"

Zorian caught Rory by the arm, and Rory could see his friend's hand though no other part of him. Zorian yanked at him, and Rory tried to help, but Pyrida screamed, reached with stone arms, and yanked them all the way in.

"Well, this could have gone better," Zorian said.

Zorian and Rory stood side-by-side in a landscape of fire rage and ice cunning. A spear of destruction came at them, as large as a building. They would have been dead if Rory had paused for even a heartbeat. The same for Zorian. Instead, they both attacked with a force that seemed puny compared to the attack, a single ray of light --

That light found a crack, expanded it, traced a web of weaknesses, and exploded in two fast heartbeats.

Pyrida himself stood on the other side, a look of shock on his face.

"He's too used to ruling this place," Zorian said. Pyrida's head came up, and Rory could feel the glare. "He has never had anyone challenge him here before."

Zorian tossed a fireball at Pyrida -- nothing fancy or very powerful, but even that almost took the priest out.

There was something Rory had yet to consider. They were three priests facing each other. Rory and Pyrida should have been on the same side, and they'd been attached to the same temple, served the same God ... knew the same magic.

Rory wasn't sure whether that was beneficial for Zorian and him. Pyrida would have the same realization.

Or maybe not. Pyrida had always considered himself singular, better, and apart from the rest. Pyrida might have learned some different pieces of magic from all his long studies, but it was doubtful he'd learned any other fundamentals on creating it.

Rory was confident of that part, in fact. He could tell just by what he had already faced from the man.

There was no way to tell all of this to Zorian, though. Instead, he had to hold the knowledge and wait for the right time to use it.

That gave them time to study Pyrida and the magical world he had created. At first, he only saw chaos, which gave way to odd patterns that moved past Pyrida and fed him magic. It was the circle of magic made manifest -- and it was something Rory could also use. Pyrida didn't realize it, he hoped. He might not see the link to the old magic since he clearly thought this was his own world.

Everything was tied.

Rory just had to find the correct string to cut. That meant leaving much of the current work to Zorian, and he could not explain why.

Zorian did give him an odd look when he pulled back the bit of magic he had been using, but he reinforced his own magic and drove aside the fiery wall that came at them.

"Rory --"

"I know his magic," Rory dared to whisper.

Zorian didn't look his way, but there was a feeling of acknowledgment in the change of his stance. He even swept in for his own attack, startling Pyrida. There was another fact to take in. Pyrida had never faced an enemy.

No, that could not be true. Pyrida had, if nothing else, captured the dragons. They would not have given up without a fight. Would they? Could Pyrida have fooled them somehow? Dragons were old and wise --

Old. Time. Pyrida had centuries to work his magic on them, so little at a time that they didn't notice. Had he done the same with the New Order of Man? Or had they been willing to join in just on common goals?

Concentrate on the links to the dragons.

As much as Rory tried to ignore what was happening, several soldiers' intrusion drew his attention. That they showed no surprise answered the question about magic. Even allies would be shocked to be pulled from reality into this unless they were under some spell.

"Rory --"

"I am on it," he promised and noted how much strain there had been in his friend's voice. There was no time for study.

The soldiers charged straight at them. Rory moved, though he was wise enough not to put himself directly in front of Zorian, which would have blocked off his use of magic.

The attack slightly from the side worked better, anyway. Rory used as little power as he could and nothing fancy, but it worked. Pyrida, he realized, was using everything powerful he could to take them down and forgetting the first rule of magic: conserve power and attack weaknesses.

The weakness in the charging soldiers was not the people, their weapons, or even the magical armor they suddenly wore. The strings of magic tied them back to Pyrida, who worked them like puppets.

He stepped closer to Pyrida to get a clear view between the man and his soldiers. A quick wave of his hand severed the magic --

And the strings swept around and attacked him.

Such a little trap to get him, or at least keep him busy so Pyrida could focus on Zorian, who must have looked like the more powerful of the two. Maybe he was, but that thought, along with falling for the trick, annoyed Rory.

Annoyance gave him focus.

Pyrida snarled in anger and glanced his way -- and that was the man's big mistake...

Flash Fiction #539 -- The Long Way Home/38

 

They headed straight for the docks, rushing through Aien's bailey and past her tower as fast as possible, though Rory still felt as though the world moved in strange ways by the time they were out of the area.

The others were yelling, and he thought they even spoke to him. Maybe he had sense enough to trust them and agree with whatever they said. Just continuing to move with them proved difficult enough.

There were also voices in his head, none of which he understood. They roared, and they whispered. Some shrieked so loud that he thought he would go deaf from the sound.

They kept moving. Rory was aware of the others close by, but they seemed so much like ghosts that he feared he had failed them and they'd died. No. He could sense them as living creatures, and all the more so when they passed by areas where the dead lay. There the actual ghosts fled, streaks of colors running from the battle, with no idea that it was already over for them.

The buildings shimmered, but not with genuine fire. Rory had no idea why there was so much magic in this city. It seemed filled with old powers that he only now sensed. Those powers were not unfriendly, but they were not for him. There were reasons Schiwen was a matriarchy and a powerful land besides. He even knew why the three queens had gathered here, even if they didn't know.

I will do you no harm, he promised. Not knowingly.

Rory had missed a lot of what the others were saying. Zorian finally noticed, probably because Rory kept heading off at an angle. A little magic brought him back to reality, although he wasn't sure this was where he wanted to be. They were close to the dock. People fought everywhere, and dragons howled in anger. The feel of magic in the air made him uneasy. That was mostly Pyrida, but some dragon magic mixed in as well.

And that worked in their favor.

Zorian had found a spot behind debris where they could study the situation. It didn't look good.

"Pyrida could be anywhere," Zorian said with a snarl. "He's laid down so much magic that it is impossible to sort him out from it!"

"So much magic, in fact," Rory added, "that if we are careful, he won't find us, either. This is a major mistake --something the books couldn't have warned him to avoid. Magic was rarely a part of any war."

Zorian looked uncertain for a moment, but then he nodded.    "I think you could be right. Other lands have used magic to a greater extent than we do. We never studied the art of magic and war."

"Weren't there books from other countries?" Andora asked.

"Yes, but not in our language -- not usually. Pyrida could have learned to read them, but I think he's lazy." Rory turned away from the battle and stared at nothing for a moment. "There was a time when we had a special relationship with the dragons, but I never looked into it. I thought they were legends for children."

"And these dragons are not playing,"  Jamison added. The sounds grew louder, and everything around them began to tremble.

"What do the Dragons want?" Zorian asked.  

"They want free," Rory replied. Then he felt startled by his own answer. "Really, they want free. That had always been the key point in the dragon stories, wasn't it? They all revolved around captured Dragons and what would happen if they were not released."

"Release them," Andora said. She dared to look over the edge of their hiding place and shook her head with a growing frown. "They appear to be trapped on the larger ships, but they may be breaking free. What happens, then? What happens if they get themselves free?"

Rory had no idea, but he suspected it would be --

An explosion shook the world around them, followed by a roar of sound that sent ice through Rory. Zorian had tried to protect them with a shield, but some of the debris got through, at least one piece hitting Rory with enough force that his right leg went numb. The others were starting to scramble away from the fire growing on the dock. At the same time, Zorian kept a shield held to hold back as much as he could, slowly backing up and nearly to where Rory tried to crawl away.

Tripped over him.

Rory realized what would happen just a heartbeat before Zorian fell. It gave him enough time to throw his own power into the shield, and though it flickered, it still held.

"Sorry, sorry," Rory mumbled and tried to get back to his feet. The numbness was gone now, though, and the ache became annoying, bordering on intolerable. He had trouble focusing --

Greenal swept in, grabbed him by the back of his jacket, and carried him away.

Rory had not been prepared to fly, especially not straight toward the battle. He tried to protest but couldn't get his breath back. Instead, he grabbed hold of Greenal's other clawed foot since he felt the jacket start to tear.

"Almost there!" Greenal shouted above the other sounds.

If he was going into battle, he had better be ready. Rory had no time to heal his leg, so he encased it in a magic shell.

They were descending, the world swirling beneath him, but he realized they would soon join some very annoyed dragons.

And Pyrida.

Rory decided on a pre-strike since he suspected Pyrida didn't realize he was coming in yet.

Rory sent a shaft of power straight down at the man. Pyrida only looked up with the power too close to stop. He tried to wave it away --

It still went through his head.

And Pyrida went insane...

Flash Fiction #538 -- The Long Way Home/37

 

The noise came again from outside the window.  Rory saw something flash in the distance, down by the docks.

"Tell me what I need to know to solve this trouble."

"Pyrida is going to try to reclaim his status from you.  Don't count on Eket stepping in, even if it was his idea.  Eket, Aien, and all the other gods have expected us to deal with our own problems and even the ones they create."

"What can I do about Pyrida?"

"I am not sure, but we'll need to develop something.  Yes, we.  Eket and Aien dropped us into this together."

Rory couldn't argue with that point.

"What can Pyrida do?"

"He still has powers he has hoarded for centuries.  On the other hand, you have been using your powers at every turn of our adventures.  I have more powers than you and understand them better, but I didn't spend centuries in a temple, never using my gifts.  Rory, we will have to use our brains more than our powers.  Stop panicking."

"Zorian, my friend, my thoughts are ... confused.  Scrambled.  I don't have enough sense left to panic.  However, one thought creeps to the top of the others.  How long have the Gods been involved?

"From the first day of creation."

"Zorian," he sighed.

Zorian looked away from the window and nodded, his face mostly in the shadows, though the explosions lighted it now and then.

"I know they were involved when that storm drove you to me.  I suspect they might even have had something to do with the king's death, but I can't be certain.  That may have simply been the sort of accident that puts events in motion that neither humans nor gods control.  That would explain the general chaos."

"Why us?  No, why me?"

"You didn't realize Pyrida had stepped outside of Eket's control.  He did so of his own free will and with clear knowledge of his choice."

"Are you certain?  Maybe he was tricked?"

"You are now in his position.  You have all the knowledge of what your god is and does, even if it is slightly scrambled.  Under any circumstances, could the New Order of Man come to you and talk you out of working with Eket?"

"No, but --" Rory stopped and then gave his companion a nod.  "No.  Not in my new position.  If I have to lock myself up in the temple --"

"Oh, no.  Don't make Pyrida's mistake.  Eket is a god of knowledge.  Pyrida purposely made himself blind to the world that changed, century by century, while he looked elsewhere.  Who controls the New Order of Man?"

"For the last few days, I thought it Pyrida.  Before he showed up, I hadn't even considered it."

"I suspect no one has considered it, which is unnatural.  I need help finding the answer.  Someone is hiding very well, and he's probably close by."

"Living among us."

Zorian nodded.

"Do you have anyone in mind?"

"Everyone but you and me -- and I'm not entirely certain about me."

It would be easy to doubt everyone, but Rory applied some logic to the situation.  "Whomever it is, the person has an understanding of armies and strategy.  I would think hands-on work, in fact."

"General Unanik?"

"It is possible.  The only trouble is that he's so often in the public eye.  This is a long-term and extensive project.  And it went underground lately."

"True.  I thought they'd had a falling out.  There were rumors of it.  New command?"

"Ah."  Zorian looked interested in the news.  "That might explain a lot of odd things.  A new commander might want to do something daring, which finally drew the Gods' attention."

"So daring, in fact, that they've drawn every power they can into this gathering to oppose them.  Why?"

"Dragons."

Odd as it seemed, Rory had forgotten their other companion.  He looked at the bed in time to see the creature rollover.  He couldn't hear them through the shield.

"They're the ones who brought the dragons?" Rory asked.

"I can't think of anyone else.  That would explain why they took in Pyrida -- or took him out of the temple by force."

"He is willingly helping them," Rory replied.  "I would have sensed otherwise.  What is going on out there?"

"The other dragons are fighting to get free.  Greenal started the process, which is why he's so tired, but we need to go and finish it -- and send them home before the Dragon Nation arrives and destroys everything."

"Which even the enemy cannot want," Rory added as he stood.

"No?  What if they were prepared for such trouble and knew that they would survive, and by controlling supplies, they could control the populace?"  Zorian stood as well.  "It has happened before."

"Not many people think about that part of the history of the war with Atria.  It was so long ago that I've only seen a few references to the battles and little about how we won or recovered.  I heard there is a manuscript at the temple that goes into more detail.  I saw it in the index, but the location --"

They were in the hall, and both stopped on the same thought.

"I imagine he had time to read every book several times over," Zorian said as he started forward again.  "And perhaps they don't need someone high up in the forces, Rory.  Maybe all they need is someone who has studied such things for centuries and, with a little magic besides, could move things as he wanted."

Zorian nodded as they started down the stairs, both deep in thought until Andora and Jamison happened upon them at the door.

Though, more likely, they'd been watching for the two.

"Do we have a plan?" Andora dared to ask as they stepped out into the loud night.

"Try for Pyrida," Rory said.  "Free the dragons and avoid a war with them."

No one argued.

Flash Fiction # 537 -- The Long Way Home/36

 

Rory didn't ask about currents and old ones, as much as he wanted to drag answers out of his two strange companions. He would probably get better answers from Zorian and Greenal, anyway.

Rory glanced back at the two and found them quite attentive. Beyond them, though, everyone else had gone still and silent -- too much so. He thought his two companions, the two gods, and himself, were caught in a bubble in a sort of metaphysical amber. He wanted to go throw himself against the invisible wall --
"Be calm, Roridon," Eket said. The words made him calm, a touch of command there. He wanted to fight it, but only because he was too used to being the one with the power. This was Eket.  Obey.

As long as Eket did nothing --

The God looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Aien turned as well. Being under their direct scrutiny was not comfortable.

"I mean no disrespect," Rory offered to things he had not said aloud. "This has been a trying time, and to find Temple Master Pyrida working against us --"

 "Working against you?" Aien said with a frown.

"He has joined the New Order of Man --"

Eket and Aien focused on him -- and just as fast, they turned away and stared at the far wall. Rory had time to glance at Zorian and the dragon which towered over him.

They both shrugged.

"This is not right," Aien said, drawing back his attention. "We chose Pyrida for his strong faith and steady morals. Someone we could trust while we explored being human --"

"Hold on. How long has he been Temple Master?"

"We have no sense of human time," Eket said.

"But I do," Zorian replied and drew all their attention. "I can tell you that he has been Temple Master for 681 years and had not left the temple before seven years ago."

"Over 670 years in the same place? It is a wonder he didn't go mad long before he did. I think I might have been a catalyst to start him on his new path. That was when I arrived."

"This is a long time?" Eket asked.

"A very long time for humans, which he had been at the start."  Zorian apparently gave up on his reluctance to join in and moved up by Rory. Greenal stood at their backs, and Rory tried to take that as a good sign.

Eket and Aien were talking to each other and not in a language Rory understood. Though he was drawn to the musical lilt, he could not even guess its roots.

Maybe it had no antecedents. Perhaps this was the first language -- the words spoken by the Gods long before mankind arrived.

Eket finally nodded and looked at Rory and gave a decisive nod. "You are now my High Priest."

"But --" Rory started.

Something changed in him at Eket's wave. He was bound to the God but no less bound to his Queen. There was going to be a conflict before too long.

But Eket knew his protest had only been about the sudden change in status. He was, though, briefly aware of Pyrida's shock that something had been stripped from him.

Authority.

With it came knowledge, and more of it than he could handle in one overwhelming rush. There were other things, but so much that Rory accepted without judgment. It changed him, those few moments when he let everything flow into him.

And then it stopped.

"I will leave this to you and your fellow High Priest," Eket said. He took hold of Aiden's hand and pressed it to his lips. "We have matters to settle between us."

They faded away. The stillness and silence remained for three or four heartbeats,  and then sound and movement filled the world like a flood. Rory thought he would drown in it. He went down, but then someone lifted him. It was not Zorian who tried to speak to him.

Greenal.

Why not?

He awoke again in a dark room with the dragon on the bed beside him, curled up like a cat, but taking most of the space. Zorian sat by an open window where a night breeze flowed.

Rory moved slightly. Greenal lifted his head, blinking luminous eyes.

"Go back to sleep," Rory said as he stood up.

Greenal yawned, showing sharp teeth that Rory would rather not have seen. Then the dragon's head dropped back to the mattress with a noticeable thump.

Zorian showed him the indoor privy at the end of the hall and escorted him back. He pulled another chair to the window and created a sound shield so they wouldn't wake Greenal.

Or maybe it was others that worried him. Rory had the feeling that there were mistrustful people everywhere around them, although that did not make them outright enemies.

He didn't complain about Zorian's precautions, though. His companion at least had a clue about what was going on.

"Questions?" Zorian asked as he poured wine for both of them. Then he added water to the cups, for which Rory was grateful. This was not the time to court drunkenness.   "Rory? Questions?"

"So many questions they would only cloud the issue. Tell me things."

"As you figured out by now, I am Aien's High Priest -- the one she chose when Eket took on Pyrida. Yes, that old -- but I didn't lock myself away in a temple. She is a nature goddess, so wandering the world worked."

"And Eket is a god of knowledge, right? I don't have to readjust all my beliefs?"

"Not all of them."  

Zorian looked out the window and frowned at a distant sound. Rory wasn't sure what it was, but he didn't like it.

"Let us deal with that material later," Zorian said as he looked back. "The problems of today are far too important to ignore. If we survive, we'll talk about other times."

Rory hoped that wasn't supposed to be reassuring...

Flash Fiction #536 -- The Long Way Home/35

 

(I got tired of the other picture.)

Zorian frantically went back to work. Rory held the dragon's head, but he was aware of another power coming their way. Then yet another, and this one not from far away.

The two powers somehow reached them at the same time. They collided over the castle with an explosion that shook everything and likely destroyed lesser buildings. And then it did it again, as though the two powers demanded the other give way.

"What is going on!" Rory demanded.

"You just fulfilled an ill-made prophecy, my friend."  Zorian gave one more grunt and pulled the spike out. The stars swarmed it and carried it off -- he hoped to somewhere it could not hurt others.

The dragon fell unconscious. Zorian simply fell and sat with his back to the dragon's side. He pulled the book from under his tunic and then shoved it back.

"I don't need the book to tell the story. Aien and Eket were lovers, having learned that game from humans. They were, for a while, the brightest stars in the heavens. All the gods envied them, and it was that envy that unintentionally worked against them.

They had a falling out, a change so drastic that the world shuddered at the loss. The clouds wept for years. But the other gods, sorry for their part in this, decreed that Aien and Eket would be together again -- at a time when a human called upon them both for aid."

"And I did."

The building trembled. A crack appeared in the wall to the right.

"You did."  Zorian struggled to his feet. "And here is the problem. Those other Gods never said they would come together in amity, and they are still angry."

Rory knew he should have felt something other than annoyance. He briefly tried one or two others, but anger, fear, and remorse seemed to take too much energy and attention to maintain. Annoyance came naturally after all else that had happened. He didn't want to turn that emotion on the two gods, but the only other two immediate candidates were either Zorian or Greenal. He considered it, but he liked Zorian too well and turning annoyance on a dragon that had already given them so much trouble -- well, no.

So the Gods it was.

Another explosion shook the building --

"Stop it!" he yelled, standing and shaking a fist at the ceiling.  
Zorian made an inarticulate sound and tried to grab him. He moved away.

"Stop acting like ill-mannered children! You are not helping the situation. We have dragons, for the love of the gods! If you are going to show up, at least don't make this worse!"

Everyone except for Zorian and Greenal had become a blur. Zorian appeared to be praying. His friend's panic worried Rory, but he already sensed that he couldn't back out. The two gods had listened to him.

He hadn't expected them to hear him.

He especially didn't expect them to show up.

Something bright, casting him in two shadows, stood behind Rory. Zorian and Greenal struggled to their feet, and Rory, with a touch of wise reluctance, turned.

Except for the glows around the two, they did look human. Far too much human, in fact. Rory had counseled -- or at least tried to -- couples who came to the Temple of Eket for help with their marriages.

Okay, why not?

"Before we begin, I want you both to find a neutral emotional base. Anger will help with nothing, no matter how justified you might think it to be."

Zorian moaned. "I can't believe he's doing this."

"This man is wise," Greenal added.

Rory wasn't confident how well any dragon would understand human wisdom, but it was a better reply than from Zorian.

Aien and Eket stared at him.  At least he had their attention, and the building had stopped shaking.

"There. That's better," Rory said. They did not look neutral, but he appreciated that the world had become calm again. Rory did his best to keep a non-accusing tone and spent no extra time looking at one or the other. All the training returned, and if he survived, he would thank Brother Narkin.  "Now, can you tell me what the base of your problems --"

"That's not what you want to say to us," Eket said as he stared at Rory.

Never lie.

"I want to tell you both to stop acting like children," he admitted. Zorian did start praying, and he thought a few others did as well. "I want you two to look around and realize that something is wrong here, and we need your help."

Aien was the one who looked startled first as she glanced around the area. Eket took a moment longer, and Rory suspected that was while he considered if this bothersome human was worth keeping alive.

"He is right, Eket," Aien said.  Her voice sent a slight tremble through everything. Eket seemed confused by her answer -- or maybe it was only her attitude. Rory felt a little of it, himself. Aien had gone from rage to what might be concern in the blink of an eye. "I have been sitting here in the midst of it but never truly looked."

"And what has it to do with us?" Eket demanded. His voice cut through the air and knocked Rory down. He considered staying there, but it would not help.

"It has everything to do with us," Aien replied, her tones softer and more concerned. "It is a manifestation of our own reactions to life around us. We drew ourselves closer to humans by taking their form, and our human-related feelings drifted through their world."

"I still don't see --"

"Eket," Aien began. She had been about to say something somewhat rude. Rory saw it in her face. Instead, she stopped and took a breath before she spoke. "I have been anxious of late. I've felt currents moving that belong to old powers. Tell me that you have missed that sign."
"I have felt it."

Flash Fiction #535 -- The Long Way Home/34

 

Rory took one step forward. He could hear the wind growing now that Zorian turned his attention to it. There hadn't even been time to find something relevant.  

A book fell off a shelf and hit his foot.

"Ow!"

"I didn't do that," Zorian said. He looked at the book with more dread than hope.

"I didn't feel any magic," Rory replied and nudged the book with his foot.

"No human magic."

Rory looked back at him with a nod, then leaned over and swooped the book up.

"Old," he said. Thunder shook the shelves. "The title is worn off the cover."

"Huh."

People yelled as the wind grew louder. Rory sighed and flipped the book open. The title startled him.

"Yes? Zorian said with a touch of impatience.

"The Book of Aien and Eket."

"Of course, it is," Zorian mumbled and held out his hand. "Just give it to me. I can find what we need faster. I know this story."

Something in his look told Rory not to argue. He gave over the book. Zorian began scanning as they walked back toward the work tables. The others had gathered up all the papers before the wind and rain hit and were fighting with the shutters now.

Rory crossed to them and used a little magic to snap them shut and even put a seal over the leaks.

"Glad to see you are useful, Roridan," Ragkin said snidely.

Now Rory remembered why he'd gotten so tired of life at court. Even Zorian shook his head in disbelief.  

A guard came to herd them back down to the lower level where the queens waited and not sitting in state this time. The people hurrying in and out were not courtiers, either.

This trouble came from more than the strange storm.

"Ships crashing into the dock and things climbing off of them," Andora explained with a frantic glance at the door where more women came in, this time dragging a hissing creature wrapped in chains.

"That's not going to hold --" Zorian began and started that way.

Rory moved with him, and so did Andora, though she also shouted orders, and people listened to her. Rory still needed to learn her rank.

Now wasn't the time to ask.

The creature started to shed circles of chains as if they were no more than pieces of yarn. Some became dangerous weapons, knocking people down.

"What in all the hells --" Andora shouted over the creature's howling.

"That is a very annoyed young dragon," Zorian said as he walked toward the howling beast.

Rory wasn't sure why he went with his friend, except that Zorian had stood with him all through this madness. Andora did as well, though maybe that was more duty rather than insanity. He needed to figure out where he should draw the line. Wasn't he going to the dragon to help protect his own queen?

They were close enough that the tip of a chain caught Rory across the ankle, and he would have gone down except for Andora, who caught hold of him.

By then, though, Zorian had rushed ahead, dragged the last chain off the creature, tossed it aside, and grappled the beast barehanded.

Rory didn't see what exactly happened, but he knew it had nothing to do with magic. This was pure strength and ability. The dragon swiped a long-clawed hand at Zorian, but he caught the wrist. Then the dragon flipped over and landed on his back.

"Ugh -- ooff," the dragon snarled as Zorian landed on his stomach.

"What the hell are you doing, Greenal?" Zorian demanded.

Knew the dragon? Rory lowered his hand where magic had just begun to gather. Andora was slower to drop her sword. The dragon, though, had stopped fighting. It blinked huge green eyes, the same color as his scales, and focused on the man standing atop him.

"My -- my Lord Zorian," the creature whispered. "I -- make it stop! I hurt. My head. Take it away!"

"Rory, can you help?"

The dragon had started to twist and turn, his eyes gone wild, and his long jaws began to snap. The arms and legs had been held to the floor by Zorian's powers, but he was having trouble with the head. Rory understood and darted around so that he stood where he could grab the top of the head and use magic to seal the mouth.  

Zorian nodded approval, knelt on the stomach, and put both his hands on the sides of the dragon's head. The creature howled and tossed once and then went still.

Rory had never felt such magic as Zorian used just then. Powerful stuff, and it didn't seem to come from him, but instead used the man as a conduit. A sprinkling of wild rushing stars spread from Zorian's fingers and spread out over the dragon's head -- and then drew back until they formed a circle just above the eyes.

The dragon moaned as something needle-like began to pull up out of his head. It pulsed black and purple, more than a foot long and almost an inch in diameter. Something evil -- Rory could sense that from the moment it first appeared.

"Don't touch the spike," Zorian warned, breathless and shaking.

"I won't," he replied and held tighter to the head. The dragon had begun making soft sounds of pain but didn't react violently.

Everyone else had gone silent. They had even backed away without being told. In the silence, Rory could hear more trouble outside. He suspected this wasn't the only dragon, and there may have been more ships and other things --

They needed to focus on this problem first. The spike continued to lift upward but also began to emit a dark power.

"Aien help us," Zorian whispered.

"Aien and Eket help us," Rory added.

"Oh hell." Zorian frantically worked again. "I should have warned you about that!"

Something powerful was heading their way...

Flash Fiction #534 -- The Long Way Home/33

 

No, that could not be right. Rory said nothing, and he even kept himself from shaking his head. However, the idea that Kellic would go along with this to save some woman from losing the throne --

"Come on, Rory," Zorian said. He caught Roridan by the arm and started to pull him away. Others were speaking, and he stopped. "No, I am going with him --"

"I don't need a guard," Rory protested.

Zorian looked into his face. "Yes, you do. And also anyone around you. Are you going to try to argue with me?"

Rory considered it for a moment and gave up. So, apparently, did the Queens, and Rory had just enough sense left to bow on his way out.

The entire group walked away in silence, all the others glancing his way, though they might have been looking at Zorian.  Rory wasn't sure anymore.

The walk through the castle gave him time to think. He considered sending for Jamison and Keltrina to join them as well but then thought they might do better on other work for a while. Gathering other information.

He said nothing.

They went up to the archive, a vast room halfway up the tower. Even the Temple of Eket had nothing to compare to this collection.

"I will die happy here," Rory decided.

Zorian laughed first and the others afterward. They sorted out their work areas. Rory and Zorian took a place by a window that overlooked the bay. It helped Rory to see things look so calm and only a few fleeting clouds out at sea.

Rory began laying out the papers he'd brought all the way on this long, confusing journey. Zorian watched the window as the others gathered their own reports and sorted them ... and it was the quietest time Rory had experienced since he'd been told the king was dead.

Soon the work of copying the code to letters became automatic. Rory did not try to read them as words yet. Instead, he worked through into the late afternoon, hoping to have enough to make some sense of it and not have to go back to translate more. His mind had started to work on other plans as well. They would need to compare work soon, primarily names and locations.

"Food, Rory," Zorian said with a tap on his arm. "And don't you dare tell me you aren't hungry."

He had been about to say something of the sort but changed his mind when Zorian looked him in the face.

They crossed to the larger table where food already waited. Someone must have thought they had an army up here.

They talked and discussed Temples, including that of Eket. There had been no word on that place since he left. That was likely Pyrida's work, but he hoped it didn't mean anything wrong for those he had served with for the last few years.

"We've been told the Gods are on the move. I need to go back to the Eket temple to see what I can learn. I mistrust that Pyrida turned up amid this trouble. Have any of you seen comments about the Temple of Eket?"

"A few comments in passing," Ragkin said.

"And we've heard nothing at all," Mellie added. She sat aside her cup of tea and frowned. "Not even from the Queen's aunt, who retired to the High Post Temple of Aien.  That bothers me. I will go ask the Queen if there is a reason for this. If I get courageous, I might even ask the Goddess."

Rory hoped she didn't have to go that far. The Goddess had seemed off-kilter if such a term could apply to such a being. Rory had only experienced one brief moment with Eket at his initiation, as though the God had noticed him as an individual. Even that brief encounter had been seared into his memory.

Learn and be free.

That was the message Eket had given to him.   Now Rory suspected he knew what it meant, so many years later. He had learned all he could; now it was time to be free of the temple and do what he could.

He explained it to the others. "It doesn't mean leaving Eket behind, and his contact with the temple is rarely noticeable. But he gave me a message, and it's time I take it to heart and do what I was meant to do."

"Which is?" Zorian asked.

"I have yet to get that far in figuring things out. First, I would like a look through these archives. They must have some older works on the Gods."

"An entire section," Mellie said with a smile. "It is good to see someone willing to do some research."

"I could live in this room ... at another time. I just need to find some links to what is happening now. None of this is normal. What is bringing all these armies together to fight ... what?"

"Atria had been our thoughts," Ragkin said. "They've been acting beyond even odd the last year, and we think they have some war of their own brewing across the sea. They may have brought a curse down on themselves, though. The snow there never ends. I went as close as I dared to check out the situation and couldn't get more than a mile inside the territory."

"Giant, cursed snow storms," Jamison repeated. "Another factor to add to the trouble."

"We can stop here," Zorian added. "Let us not invite any others in."

Everyone agreed, and Meggie left laden with all their 'good lucks' as she went out the door.

The others went to work while Rory set out to find something helpful in the archive. He let himself wander, expecting Eket to show him the way. Up one aisle and down another, noting a few things he wanted to read later.

Zorian found him. "I believe we are about to get hit by serious weather."

Flash Fiction #533 -- The Long Way Home/32

 

Silence held in the room, and no one dared say anything, even after their initial reaction to the statement. The Queen and general looked at each other and nodded in agreement to something neither of them said.

Queen Intensia looked out at the crowd of locals as if they were the ones she had to speak to and not her own people. Finally, her notice turned to Jamison and his wife, and she gave a slight nod of her head.

"Unanik is my half-brother, born to a castle servant," she said. "Yes, the King knew. No, we did not have an affair. We came up with the idea to get me out of the capital and away from what we knew must be growing trouble. A disgraced queen was not likely to be approached by others for favors, and I let it be known early on that I did not want to dispose of my husband. I pretended to have a delightful life now that I was free. It helped that everyone knew he and I really did have our disagreements. I am sorry to see him gone. I thought you would be ruling by now, Palkin. And your brother off conquering new lands somewhere."

So, that settled a question.

"The New Order of Man should have taken him into their fold," Palkin replied. "Or at least tried to. I suspect he would have surprised them."

"I may have seriously maimed Poltin," Rory admitted. "Kellic is not going to be happy with me."

"We'll deal with it later," Palkin said and seemed to mean those words. "Poltin was too dangerous."

"Kellic told him to kill me," Rory said, drawing more surprised looks. "I believe now that he thought Jamison and I had killed the ambassadors, and I, on the other hand, thought he had killed them."

"And we all wondered who killed my father," Palkin added with more emotion than Rory had expected.   "That is my current goal, and yes, I suspect the New Order of Man and Pyrida. However, we've suspected too many others of late for me to name them without proof. More than PYrida's actions. For all we know, that might just be a personal disagreement with Rory."

"I can't imagine why," Zorian and Queen Calladona chorused.

That was exactly what everyone needed. Rory blushed and bowed his head, but he had to agree that this might be personal. "We never got along in the temple, and he wanted me to fail. Why did you send me there?"

Maybe this wasn't the time to ask, and Rory almost apologized -- but he needed information if any of this was going to work out. Answers to many things, but his link in this situation would help him center. He needed that first.
"I had heard of odd things at the Eket temple," Queen Calladona admitted. "I did not suspect Prydia of wrong-doing, but there were questions about unusual guests. These guests were never seen with Pyrida at the gates, and no outsider could get the information -- at least none that I sent."

"You didn't tell me."

"There was magic involved. At least one person I sent was certain his real assignment had been learned that way."

Rory nodded. He said nothing while the others related everything they had seen and done. He knew Callanda looked his way often, but he still had no clear vision of what was happening.

"Why are the three of you here?" he suddenly asked. Still not polite, and he couldn't help it. Something tingled along his skin, and he knew he had little time to figure out the problems they faced.

More than one problem.

Queen Callanda looked his way with a nod. The others had asked no questions, not even this most obvious one.

"We have been working together for many years," she said. "But until now, it had been done by messenger. Simply keeping track of what is going on in the other lands."

"And then Lady Aien arrived," Queen Wendora said. "We learned that not only armies but also gods were on the move."

"Gods," Jamison repeated and took hold of his wife's arm. "Why?"

"No one knows why the gods move as they do," Zorian replied. "They are chaos itself. What about their priests? Are they on the move like Rory and Pyrida?"

"None of my messengers have arrived in the last ten days," Queen Intensia admitted.  

"And there had been nothing about the temples for several months," Queen Wendena added. She glanced around the area and then nodded to someone at the right. "Mellie, start scanning the messages, in court and out, for word on the temples or the priests."

"Ragkin, join her," Calladona added with a wave of her hand. "Work together."

 "Yes, yes -- you as well, Bitell," Queen Istania added. "You might want to join them, Palkin. You were always good at this work."

"And Rory," Calladona said, looking him over. "If he is able?"

"To sit and read things?" Rory asked. "I might be able to do that for a while, my Queen. I don't know for how long, but the truth is that I also have some coded papers from the late Ambassador Tranthin --"

"Dead? I had feared so when the messengers stopped arriving. His family?"

"All of them dead, including the clerks. I happened to be out gathering my own information when I learned that the King had died. I hurried back, but I was already too late. Kellic was there --"
"Kellic often worked with Tranthin," Calladona said. "It was through their work that we created the sham proposal for my daughter's hand that I turned down."

"But why?" Jamison dared to ask. He looked lost in this web of secrets and was trying to grab any strand and make sense of it.

"We worked that out," Palkin said. "As long as he was crown prince, women wanted him. So we created a lost love to ease the pressure. And it was only fair to a woman who would expect to become Queen."...

Flash Fiction #532 -- The Long Way Home/31

 

Rory could sense the magic all around them as they crossed the wide bailey and skirted a tall but apparently deserted square tower.  Most people would have thought it so, but Rory felt so much magic emanating from the stone and wood that it made it difficult for him to breathe, let alone walk.

Zorian caught hold of Rory and swung him up over his shoulder like a bag of grain.  He tried to protest, but he still couldn't breathe.  Zorian moved at a good clip and had outdistanced the others so that they came to the next gateway well ahead of the rest, even though they were moving faster as well.  Rory supposed that seeing the two mages rushing away probably inspired them to move as fast as they could.

Zorian put him down and pushed him against the nearest wall.  Rory could breathe now.

"What the hell --" Rory began.

"A part of her realm but made into an illusion to fit into this one.  I didn't expect you to be so susceptible to the power."

"But you weren't," Rory replied.  He looked back as the others neared.

"Aien and I have a history.  You figured that out." Zorian looked back to see the others near.  "We'll discuss it later, just the two of us."

Rory didn't argue.  He wasn't sure he wanted to know at all.  They again took their place in the procession, and no one asked anything.  Not even Andora, who looked as if she might take the first chance she got to escape from this madness.

However, that feeling of magic eased as they crossed the next open ground and headed for a magnificent set of towers.  Guards- all female- stood at the top of another set of stairs and watched at a pair of ornate doors.

Junal moved on ahead of them in this place she so obviously knew. She signaled for the rest of us to hold the fifth step, and everyone froze in place. Rory glanced around slightly, trying to count the number of guards they might have to fight through to get back out. This didn't feel like a confrontation, but nothing felt right during this trip.

Junal spoke quietly to the guards. One stepped inside the partially opened door and talked to someone else, a shadow that moved off quickly.

Then they all just waited.

It wasn't long before they had word from the inside, and the doors opened wide to let them inside. Rory tried not to feel overawed by the glorious interior. It made him feel like a barbarian out of the north. He didn't think he liked that feeling very much, so he shoved it aside along with the growing headache that just put them in a bad mood.

Several more guards let them along the short corridor into another set of huge doors. One of the guards lifted the knocker and hit the door three times. It opened from the inside.

And then they went, despite the Rory thought this was a terrible idea. The aisles were filled with people, both men, and women. They couldn't see past the people in front of him, but he was aware of three high-placed thrones. The few people ahead of his group moved to the right or left as directed and finally brought Rory, Andora, and Zorian to the front of the line and facing the Queens.

Yes, three of them. The woman in the middle, slightly older than the one to the left, had to be the queen of Schiwen, Wendara. To her left sat Queen Intensia of Euriday.  He recognized her from paintings at the palace.

To the right sat Rory's queen, Calladona.

Rory was so surprised that he barely bowed his head to all three women and let Andorra pull him off to the side with Zorian. He looked around at the others, and even Prince Palkin looked shocked to find his mother here.

Only Generals Junal and Unanik looked, if anything, relieved rather than surprised. They had expected to find the three women here. But why?

It took very little for the room to settle into near silence again. Rory only hoped they found some answers here because they had already gone a long way.

It was Queen Calladona who leaned forward and pointed straight at Rory. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"As soon  I heard that the king had died, I went to get the ambassador.  His family and clerks were already dead.  I have tried to get home since then, but all the universe has seemed to work against me, except for my few companions.  Temple Master Pryida is working with the New Order of Man."

"That is not good news," Calladona replied.

"Maybe the universe pushed Rory to be here since this is where you are," Zorian replied.  "Something wants the two of you together. And Rory came by accident into my hands. Stop frowning, my friend. I'm not saying that you couldn't have gotten here alone. It is more likely that we were all supposed to be here."

That wasn't a thought Rory had considered.  He would have thought Aien was behind this gathering, but it didn't feel right.  Nothing had fallen together for him.  He hoped they were here long enough to rest and find some answers.

"Then there is no doubt my husband is dead?" Queen Intesia asked.

"Not so far as we could tell," Jamison answered for him.

"I am sorry to bring such news, my dear," Unanik added.

Those were not the words any of them and expected in the reaction ran all through the building. Rory dared to glance at Jamison, but he looked no less shocked. Even the other two queens glanced her way with raised eyebrows.

Flash Fiction # 531 -- The Long Way Home/30

 Rory moved up the steps, Zorian on one side and Andora on the other.  Prince Palkin walked between the two generals and didn't look thrilled to be on show right now.  Rory suspected this was not the place Palkin wanted to be.  Neither did he.

And more so when each step upward to the next brought him the conviction that there was magic in that next bailey.  A considerable amount of it.

Rory looked at Zorian, who gave a quick nod.  Then he turned to Andorra, and she also gave him a nod.

"There is magic in the area ahead of us," Rory said and drew the attention from everyone.

"Yes, there is," she said with a quick nod. "We're not allowed to tell anyone, but if you sense it, we're not to deny the existence. I can't tell you anymore because I know nothing more about it than that it exists."

"Is it dangerous?" Rory asked. "I can't feel any proper sense out of it."

"I think it could be dangerous, but not to anyone who comes as a friend. If any of you have doubts – –"

No one even slowed, although Rory considered turning around and going ... home?  He had been trying to get home since this trouble started, and he first heard the king had died.

Why the man had died was still the question.  If he trusted Palkin's take on the situation and that Prince Kellic didn't want to be king, it fit in some ways and not in others.  People were like that, though.

And this was not the time to worry about that part of the problem.  The feel of magic made his skin tingle as they climbed up the steps.  He wasn't up to this kind of problem.  

One last step and through the stone portal.

Rory and Zorian spun to the right, both with hands raised.  Something nebulous moved there, a cloud of magic that spun and swirled and moved out in front of them.  Rory could tell that only he and Zorian could see and sense it.

"Stay still!" Zorian ordered.  The others listened to him while he and Rory made their way to the front of the procession and faced the magic quickly took the form of a tall woman with long black hair and a dress of sky-blue and golden threads.

Rory heard the others make sounds of surprise and could see the woman where they hadn't seen the cloud of magic.

The woman gave a bow of her head.  "You two are powerful.  Only one other has ever done more than sense the surrounding magic when they enter my bailey.  And does that make you, both men, enemies?"

"You know that already, Lady Aien," Zorian answered with a bow of his head.

"I feared you had forgotten me, Zorian."

"Never."

Lady Aien winced at that single word, and Rory wondered what sort of history hid in so simple an answer.  He also wondered if he had ever heard of a mage named Aien.  The name sounded familiar, but no one of such power --

No human.

His breath caught, and he bowed his head in shocked surprise.  Goddess.  The one who looked over the lands of Schiwen.  A goddess of such power that none of the others dare question her claim over the matriarchy and the lands they conquered in her name --

Andora had gone to her knees.  So did General Junal and all the others from Schiwen.  Then the rest of them knelt, except for Zorian.  

Was there a challenge in that stance?  Rory wanted to pull his friend down, but the look on Aien's face did not indicate trouble.  He suspected amusement and thought the same when he looked at Zorian.

Rory was not sure they had time for this behavior.  Lady Aien must have thought the same.  She lifted her head and looked out over the stunned and still silent group.

"This is my place; for now, I hold the line here," she said.  "This is where my rule began.  Only those whom I trust pass on.  This group may see the Queens and pass again on their way out, as long as they do no harm."

Queens?

"There is another mage who may yet follow us," Zorian said.  "You would not let him pass here, but I ask that you protect those who might come into his path.  You know his name."

"Pyrida," she said, and Rory feared she was surprised.  He never liked seeing beings of power shocked by some news, especially when he knelt before them.

Zorian gave a bow of his head and a slight grimace.  "He hunts for Rory and me, though I doubt he realizes all the danger we are to him."

Rory would have rather not heard him mentioned by name. Lady Aien looked his way, her face so devoid of emotion that it seemed unreal.  She might have been an especially well-painted statue.

Now that he was past some of his shock, Rory wanted to ask many other things.  Instead, he remained silent as the goddess became ephemeral again.  Zorian helped him back to his feet.  His legs almost gave out, but he willed himself to stay standing.  

"Zorian --" he began.

The larger man shook his head. "Don't ask.  We don't want to muddy those waters, or resurrect those ghosts, right now.  Especially those ghosts."

That sounded dire.  He didn't like ghosts and tried his best to avoid waking them. Rory filed about a hundred questions into the back of his mind and waited as Prince Palkin and the two generals again took their places at the front of the group.  Rory thought they looked uncertain about that position.

Andora moved to walk beside Rory.

"Queens?" Rory asked.

"I do not know.  I begin to think I know nothing at all."

"Welcome to my life."

Flash Fiction #530 -- The Long way Home/29

 

 

"Stay here!" Jamison ordered.  Rory started to object.  "Just stay where we can find you if we need to!"

That made enough sense that Rory sat down and decided he could stay there, at least for a while.  They were not in port yet.  There was no fighting on the deck, and it seemed they were sliding past the sound of battle.

Good.

Zorian showed up and nodded when he saw Rory sitting at the table.  He looked exhausted and determined as he settled in the other chair.

"What are we doing here?" he asked.

"Don't ask me.  I was unconscious most of the time."

That won a loud, barking laugh from Zorian followed by a look of relief.  Rory tried not to feel burdened by that look.  He had helped the others.  He did have skills even Zorian -- who was not discussing his magic -- didn't appear to have.

"What was the battle?" Rory asked. He had to prepare to start moving soon.

"Andora said something about a ritual before the one group could be allowed into the city.  I hope we aren't expected to do the same."

"I'll make the other side sleep."

"I might hold you to that one.  Damned mess we are in."

"I have no idea what problems we face, except for Pyrida.  He's the one I'll focus on."

Zorian gave a nod of agreement, but still said nothing more about his own magic.  Apparently, he belonged to one of the secret sects.  Rory could name a dozen or more, but this was not the time to demand answers.  He saw Zorian look his way with both worry and curiosity.

"You can tell me what you think I need to know," Rory said with a wave of his hand, though he wished it hadn't trembled.  "The rest is your life, not mine."

Zorian gave a gracious bow of his head.  Rory left him alone, but  hoped that they could soon work out some plans.  From the sounds outside, they were coming close  to docking. Rory had barely glanced out the porthole and had no idea what they might be facing here, either in what the town looked like or in the people.

He knew he wasn't ready to face any of it.

Andora, Jamison, and Keltrina came to get them.  Rory had gathered as much energy as he could by then and must have looked reasonably alive.  Everyone looked relieved.  Rory only felt worse, but he let them herd him up from the lower decks and into the sunlight.

Rory thought it might have blinded him at first.  He'd had no idea how dark it had been so dark within the ship.  He blinked away the tears and squinted --

Stepped into shadow and the world came back into focus.

Rory had never seen anything like it.  Towers of colored stone rose catching the sunlight and casting shadows across hundreds of red-roofed buildings.  He blinked thinking it would all disappear becausee this could not be real.

"This is Sci?" he finally dared to ask.
"I guess that means you've never been here before," Orian said as he took Rory by the arm and led him off of the ship. The crew and the soldiers were all remaining behind and none of them looked any less startled than him.

Andorra gave a little laugh. "I fell over my own feet the first time I came to the city," she said. "Twice. No one ever warns you for that reason. We all go through it and want to see the same reaction in others."

Rory nodded as if this made all sorts of sense to him, but in truth his mind was just wandering all over the place now. Even the war seemed far away.  Maybe that was good.

A carriage arrived to take them ... wherever they were headed.  Andora still came with them.  The two generals and Prince rode in a different vehicle and led the way.  They might have been visiting dignitaries rather than a disparate group of refugees.

Rory watched the city.  People -- women, men, children -- watched  them pass with open curiosity.  Guards, all women, came to attention. Despite the battle they had so lately left, this seemed like a place where war would never touch.

It was not what he had expected of Schiwen.  The road to extend my twists and turns to a huge building he had not seen from the port. This was clearly a citadel with cyclopean walls topped with well-armed guards every three yards. This, Rory realized, was why the rest of the city could seem so much at peace. The area within these walls was more than enough to take in the people below.

Rory felt duly impressed and intimidated.

A moat circled the mass, and wide enough that the Springer might have sailed it if they'd dragged her up here.  The bridge they lowered had been made of metal and clanged into place like a bell of doom.

Rory didn't want to be the enemy of these people, which was probably exactly the reaction they wanted.   He watched the walls they passed through, counted the arrow ports, made note of the trap walls with narrow, easily defended turns, and decided simply not to annoy anyone here.

They came suddenly out into a wide bailey filled with small buildings, many of them with working blacksmiths out front.  Newly made swords hung everywhere.  A couple had intricate shields as well.  This, finally, looked like a place preparing for war.

It didn't make him feel any better.

The carriages came to a stop at a portal, faced by a staircase, that led to a higher level.  We all climbed out and joined Prince Palkin, General Junal, and General Unanik.

"We walk from here," Andora told us.  She looked at me.  "If you need a sedan --"

"I can walk."

"Good.  Not many outsiders get past this area."  She looked worried this time.  "Take care."

Not what he wanted to hear.

Flash Fiction #529 -- The Long Way Home/28

 

For a long time, Rory did not know where he might be and didn't care.  When he opened his eyes for a moment or two, the room seemed dimly lit and the bed steady.  Still on the ocean, though.  He could hear the water against the hull.

Safe, he thought.  Quiet.  No one needed him to do anything heroically stupid.  All he had to do was rest.

Jamison sat by the bed when he woke the next time.  He looked haggard, and the ship moved with little jumps and turns.  Rory wanted to go back to sleep.  He knew it would not happen.

"Where?" he finally asked and drew his friend's attention.

"Almost to Tember Port."

"Sciwhen," Rory said.  He hoped he might be wrong.  This was not where they had supposed to be heading.  It seemed as if at every turn, he got farther from home.

"Why?"

"I am not privy to those decisions," he said, and with just enough of a tone that Rory knew it annoyed Jamison.  

And why not?  They'd been deciding on their own before this.  Important decisions to save lives and bring out information.  He turned his head and saw the bag with the coded papers.  Good.

Rory forced himself to sit up.  The room moved in ways that had nothing to do with the ocean.

"Why are we here?"

"Mostly because we needed allies," Jamison admitted.  "And I think because it was the least likely direction for us to head.  The Atrians turned aside early on and headed back toward their own lands.  Apparently, they couldn't decide on which enemy to attack and left it for all of us to sort out."

"Or the New Order of Man and the Atrians are allies," Rory said, and slipped his legs off the bed.  He sat there, waiting for the dizziness to ease.

"I would hope for that alliance," Jamison replied and looked in a happier mood.  "Just think of two such fanatical groups working together.  Neither would survive."

"You probably have that right," Rory agreed.  "Where are we?  We must have gone a long way from the last battle from the amount of rest I've had to recover this much."

"This is recovered?"

"Relatively speaking.  I pray to the gods I never have to go that far again.  Do you know where we are?"

"At the edge of a tidal river, the Mendin," Jamison replied.  "I don't know this area --"

"It leads straight to the Schiwen capital, Schi.  Well defended, and no one goes there without an invitation.  The tide helps."

"What are we going to do here?"

"What we've done since the start: try to figure out what is going on.  Well, you can't say it hasn't been interesting, at least."

"Exciting, but that doesn't always mean good.  Nor does interesting.  Wouldn't you rather have a quiet life?"

Rory stood and stumbled over to the table, grabbing at the chair and sitting down with Jamison's help.  He thought about what Jamison had said as he waited for the world to stop moving.

"I am a priest," Rory reminded his companion.  "I spent the last few years of my life mostly in quiet contemplation.  I liked it.  Just the same, I do feel needed now.  Those years of quiet taught me my magic.  I don't want the rest of my life to be this way, but I can't go back, either. That's not a matter of want, but of trust."

 " I have never seen you as a priest,"  Jamison reminded him.  The ship took a curve to the right while the crew shouted orders above them.  "I have seen you as a mage, but not in a temple."

"You are saying I should give up that part of my life?"

"I would never tell you what you should do, only that I agree -- given the circumstances with Pyrida --  that the matter of trust is real."

Rory nodded.  Jamison got them food and water and sat down to eat with him, all in silence.

"Kaltrina?"

"Sleeping.  She was on watch last night.  I fear I am going to lose her to the Schiwen army if this keeps up."

"The only way she would go is if you went as well."

"That would be a different future," he agreed with a bright smile.  "I suspect Prince Palkin has other plans for me."

"Probably for all of us," Rory agreed, ignoring the fact that he served his own Queen.  "This is a mess, and I still don't know if we are siding with the proper people.  Not that I think the people we are with are wrong, only that I can't be certain of their reasoning and plans."

"I trust them.  I've spent time in their conferences on the Springer, and so far they tend to caution.  Going to Schiwen for help was safer than trying to cut north and fight our way back to where we began."

Rory couldn't argue with that idea.  He was glad not to be heading back into the heart of the trouble.  Not that he expected there to be peace in Schiwen. Too many things were going wrong just now.

"We'll be to Schi soon," Jami said.  They'd ate mostly in silence.  "Andora says she'll see us through what we need to do and continue to be our guide while we're here.  That should help."

Rory trusted Andora, so he didn't argue.  Part of him wanted to, just to show that he had some say in what was happening around him.  It seemed as if everything had been spiraling out of his control from the moment he ran into Jamison and Katrina.

This was all madness.  They both knew it.

Rory could tell they must be coming into port by the sounds on the ship and the clank of noises beyond the Springer.    Rory spent some time trying to straighten his clothes and hair.

And then he heard fighting on the shore.

Flash Fiction #528 -- The Long Way Home/27

 

Unanik stared at Rory with a frown.  Then he caught the mage by the arm, but only because the ship had started to turn. Sailors and soldiers shouted across the deck, and the wind moved fitfully in the sails.  Zorian came bounding down and grabbed Rory a bit more forcefully.

"You better have a good reason --"

"Pyrida," Rory said with a wave of his hand toward the ship behind.

"No, no," Zorian replied and shook Rory several times before he got control.  "Pyrida is the most powerful mage in Sundry!"

"That's what he's always said," Rory replied.

Zorian stopped and stared into his face.  "You don't think it's true."

"I've had some doubts for a while, but it wasn't something to pursue.  Maybe I'm only hoping now.  It is Pyrida.  I know the feel of his magic too well.  Keep us on as erratic a path as you dare.  I need to marshal more magic before I try to take him on.  Even if he's not as strong as he pretends, that doesn't mean he's weak."

Zorian stared, nodded, and pushed Rory into Unanik's hold. The General nodded at some unspoken agreement that probably had to do with Rory's sanity and how to keep him safe from his actions.

He didn't argue.  Not right now.

Rory also trusted Zorian to keep things going.  Unanik finally gave him over to Jamison and Keltrina, both of whom looked as worn as Rory.  They found a place to sit, the three on the deck amid all the soldiers.

Everyone did their best to stay out of the way of the sailors who were doing their best to obey the orders given by Zorian.  The ship turned, heeled, and almost spun more than once.  It did not help Rory's stomach or state of mind.

He sat quietly, though, and the others left him alone -- probably too tired to care much by now. Rory felt the same way, but he thought that feeling away and tried to sort out everything in his mind.
Everything started with the King's death, but none of it made any more sense than it had from the start. Pyrida being in the middle of this and on the wrong side. It confused him.
Confusion?
Rory closed his eyes and sat very still while he let his mind drift away from all the things that had bothered him and kept him from focusing on anything else.

Pyrida may not have been as powerful as he pretended, but that didn't make him weak.  The feeling that he barely touched the area around Rory wasn't a weakness.  Pyrida didn't want to draw attention.

Pyrida was far too close.

Rory scrambled to his feet, startling everyone around him, especially when he lifted his hands and sent out a spray of colorful lights.  They were not dangerous.  They did, however, seek out magic.  Rory was not surprised when a few danced out toward Zorian, but he directed them back to the others.

They collided with an unseen figure standing midship on the starboard side.  Although he couldn't see the features, there was no doubt who the figure was -- and that he'd been looking for Rory.  Only Rory had stopped using magic and had blended into the already crowded ship.

They had found each other now.

"Jami -- clear everyone away," he ordered.  People were already rushing away from the odd, brightly lit shape.  A few soldiers were drawing weapons, but that was not something he wanted.  "Weapons can be easily turned.   Be careful."

Jamison had started to pull his knife -- he shoved it back away with a start and then rushed off to stop a dozen swordsmen.  Rory gave him what little protection he could spare.

Then Rory forced strength into his legs and headed for Pyrida.  There was no use hiding anymore for either of them.  Pyrida brushed away Rory's little magic lights and dropped his shield.

Not Pyrida.  Queen Calladona.

No.

No.  Rory sent a wave of magic to strip away the disguise, surprising Pyrida, who had thought seeing the Queen would startle him.  Whatever the Temple Master had intended to do, it died in his hands in a flash of power.  He was Pyrida this time, both surprised and not pleased to be brought to light.

"You can't win against me," Pyrida snarled and added a touch of reverberation to his voice.  Pretentious.  "You never could."

"I was raised at court," Rory replied, which won a frown of confusion.  "I knew that, diplomatically, it was not wise to better you."

Pyrida had a temper.  He usually kept it mostly in check,  but he saw no reason even to try this time.  Rory had insulted and challenged him.  He roared as he called up the power --

And a lance of bright blue fiery power burnt through Pyrida's right arm and side.

Rory should have been paying attention to Zorian, who had now drawn Pyrida's wrath.  He started to curse but saw how much the attack had unhinged Pyrida.  Good.

Rory attacked, though he didn't try to get past the Temple Master's defenses.  Instead, he used that power as a fulcrum to shove the confused mage backward -- and then up and off the ship.

Pyrida had not been prepared to fly.

Rory rushed to the spot and leaned over the railing, Zorian only a moment behind him.

"Did he go under?" Zorian asked as he tried to scan the water.

"Maybe, but I'm still alive, so he's not dead.  It was foolish to attack him, my friend.  Thank you."

"We are in this together," Zorian replied.  "And it was a damned good thing you knew that wasn't the Queen.  It stunned me."

"I could tell by his face that it was not the Queen.  I think he forgets my link to her sometimes.  I -- I need to rest."

Rory felt himself slipping away again as Zorian caught him by the arm.