A Life Less Ordinary (35 page)

“You’re mad,” I said, finally. Why hadn’t I seen it before? “You have to stop this...”

Cardonel laughed. “What do I have to lose?”

“Everything,” I said, firmly. “You’re half-human, Cardonel; do you have half a human soul?”

He studied me for a long chilling moment, as if he was on the verge of lashing out with his claws and slicing through my throat. “You’re just the same as your master,” he hissed. “You never think or dream of the vast possibilities beyond the devastation. And it never occurs to you that the people under your feet have thoughts or feelings of their own. Look at me, Dizzy; do you find me attractive now?”

The glamour-spells surrounding him popped and I recoiled. For the first time, I was gazing upon Cardonel’s real form. He was short, with aging skin and no hair...and blue fire burning under his physical form. I could see fires licking through his chest, slowly burning away at everything that anchored him to life. His father’s magic had never been meant to be confined in a matter-based form and it was slowly burning its way out. When it completed the destruction of his physical form, Cardonel would die. The more he used his power, the sooner he would die.

And he stank. I smelt age, and burning flesh, and something eerily inhuman. I understood, now, why so few humans trusted half-elves. If I’d seen him like that, back when we’d first met, I would never have trusted him, let alone allowed him inside me. There were tales of men and women who allowed themselves to be seduced by sexual demons – a succubus was far better than any merely-human woman in bed, but the price was appalling – and woke up in the morning to discover what they’d permitted so close to them. Very few had survived the experience, at least with their minds intact.

“I have only a few days left at most,” Cardonel hissed. “I stand here on the verge of total collapse. Merely holding my body together requires an act of will far greater than anything you could imagine. The only thing keeping me alive is my force of will. Tonight, I will know apotheosis and the entire human race will follow in my wake.”

I understood, seeing how all the pieces fitted together. “The Rationalists figured out how the ghosts were linked to the afterlife,” I said. “You worked out how that could be used to punch a hole though and then draw on the magic there.”

“My body is partly magical, after all,” Cardonel said. His form shimmered and he returned to his more normal appearance. I knew, now, that I would never look at him in the same way again. “I understand magic in ways that even the Rationalists will never understand. When the magic comes pouring through the hole, I will be there to give it shape and form. The influx of raw magic will transform me and in doing so the entire world will be transformed.”

I found myself searching, desperately, for the words that would convince him not to do this. “You could surrender yourself into the mundane world,” I said. “You’d be human there. You’d just blur away and live out a human lifespan.”

“As one of the sheep,” Cardonel said. “The humans of the mundane world are so happy, so distant and so small. They have no idea of the truth behind existence, of the Great Powers that manipulate events behind the scenes, or even how they can take some of that power for themselves. They run around, desperate to find money and a job and a partner and have kids and never realise the truth behind the universe. They kill themselves and others for the sake of the August Personage, struggle to impose their way of life on others...they’re tiny!”

He looked down at me. “Would you choose to go back to the mundane world and spend the rest of your life there?”

I shook my head. “No,” I admitted, “but I can look forward to a normal human lifespan or even a far longer one if I learn how to rejuvenate myself. You will die soon. Surely, life as a human isn’t that bad...”

“My father showed me the gates of paradise and told me that I wasn’t allowed in,” Cardonel sneered. “The humans rejected me; the elves rejected me, even though they brought me into existence. I will make the human race rise up and the elves will be crushed.”

I stared at him. “You will destroy them?”

Cardonel laughed. “I will force them to realise that there is something in the universe far more powerful than them,” he said. “That alone will destroy them.”

He sobered. “And all it will cost is one human life.”

“If you’re looking for a virgin sacrifice, I’m not qualified,” I said, dryly. “Or did you merely make me
think
that you’d been inside me?”

Cardonel laughed. “No,” he said. He reached into my clothes and pulled out the statue. “I thank you for bringing her to me. I intended to take someone from the streets, which might have risked everything. You may have ensured the birth of the New Age.”

“No,” I protested. “Use me instead!”

“You’re not qualified,” Cardonel reminded me. “The spell needs
innocence
and you are far from innocent.”

He checked my bonds and then stood up, saluting. “The wards will keep you here, Dizzy,” he said. “I will be back for you when the New Age has dawned and the world has forever changed.”

With that, he vanished, leaving me alone.

Chapter Thirty-One

For a long moment, the rage boiled up within me and I struggled against my bonds helplessly. I’d brought the statue-girl with me, intending to free her as soon as I could, and instead I’d just turned her into a human sacrifice. I could see now what they intended to do. They would kill her and follow her soul as it slipped onwards into the afterlife, piggy-backing her death to open a permanent link between the afterlife and our world. I wasn’t sure if I believed everything he’d told me, yet...it all hung together remarkably well.

“Damn it,” I swore, as I struggled. I’d seen plenty of movies where the handcuffed criminals had been able to get free while the cops weren’t looking. They’d clearly not bothered to consult a real cop, because I couldn’t even begin to get free. The cold wooden chair began to press against my naked bottom, a droll reminder of my punishment...wait, a
wooden
chair? It was so simple that I found myself laughing out loud. Cardonel, after all, had never lived in the mundane world and saw magic as the answer to all of his problems. I knew better.

Using all the strength I could muster, I pushed the chair back as hard as I could. I was trying to overstrain the legs and break the chair. It all happened very quickly; one moment I was still seated on the chair, the next it shattered and I fell to the floor. I cried out in pain as I struck the floor – the chair had scratched me in several places and I was bleeding badly – but I was able to pull free. I might have had four pairs of handcuffs dangling from each of my arms and legs, yet I was free! I summoned magic and unlocked the handcuffs, and then concentrated on healing the damage. It looked worse than it actually was. Two minutes later, I had dressed myself and headed over to the door. It was locked and crawling with enough security spells to deter anyone. I studied them, wondering if I could pick my way out, but it was impossible.

Cursing, I went back into the apartment and searched for anything I could use. There was nothing. Cardonel wouldn’t have owned many Objects of Power and he wouldn’t have left anything in the apartment with me, just in case I did manage to break free. I checked the walls, wondering if I could simply blast through them and escape that way, but again there were too many security spells to risk anything. I scowled. I’d gotten out of one trap only to be trapped again. Cardonel was probably laughing somewhere, knowing that even if I managed to get off the chair I’d still be unable to escape. Or had he had some reason to think that I could get off the chair and be able to escape?

It clicked suddenly and I cursed my own stupidity. I still had the Sisterhood’s pendant and Cardonel had seen me use it, back when we’d freed the slaves. He hadn’t been able to take that from me, if only because men couldn’t take the pendants without female permission. He’d been able to remove it from my neck and leave it with my clothes – I guessed his half-elf nature had confused the magic on the pendant – but he hadn’t been able to put it outside my reach. I took it, allowed my magic to flow into it and opened a Gateway. A moment later, I was walking through the woods and down towards the pool I’d seen before, where the same women waited for me. In the distance, splashing around in the pool, I spied some of the girls I’d freed from captivity.

“We welcome you, sister,” Sister Varsha said. She seemed unchanged from the last time I’d seen her, even though I’d pushed a handful of liberated slaves into her dimension. “Why do you call upon us?”

I ran through a brief explanation of everything that had happened since we’d last spoken, starting with the fire and then how I’d beaten the Nameless Elf, only to be defeated by his half-elf cousin. I didn’t hide anything from them except one detail. I didn’t dare explain the full nature of Cardonel’s plan to them, not if my suspicions were correct. The Sisterhood had a patron, after all, and she might take a very dim view of his plan.

“You have been a credit to your sex,” Sister Varsha said, when I’d finished. “What do you wish to do now?”

“Is it not obvious?” The crone demanded, from where she was lying on the ground staring up into the blue sky. “She wants to rescue her master and the poor transfigured girl.”

“She has an obligation to try,” Sister Varsha agreed. I nodded. I hadn’t turned the girl into a statue and sold her as a piece of modern art, but I’d certainly been responsible for her falling into even worse hands. “We should assist her.”

“Except our ability to interfere outside our own dimension is limited,” another Sister said. “This sister” – she indicated me with a wave of her hand – “has already compromised our neutrality once. Should we allow her the chance to do so again?”

I flushed, but the crone spoke first. “We have assumed the responsibility to be there for women who have been abandoned by others,” she said, sharply. “We have to live up to our obligation.”

“Yes,” the newcomer agreed, “but we still do not have the ability to reach out and rescue the girl.”

“No, you don’t,” I agreed. I looked up at Sister Varsha, praying that I was right. “I need to speak to your patron.”

Sister Varsha stared at me, just for a moment. “Our patron rarely speaks to anyone,” she said, “apart from those who are given to her. She may not speak to you.”

“I believe that we have already met,” I said. “Please will you allow me to speak to her? I need her help.”

She pointed to another pool hidden within the surrounding trees. “Go there, place your hands into the water and speak her name,” she said. “If she pleases to talk to you, she will do so.”

I nodded and walked away, towards the hidden pool. The trees closed in around me. I glanced behind, only to discover that the path I’d walked on was no longer there. Shaking my head, I turned back and walked onwards, praying that I was right. The Nameless Elf had been dangerous enough, but this person was far worse. And it would be even worse if I was wrong. I hoped my reasoning was correct...

The pool suddenly shimmered in front of me. I knelt down and pressed my hands into the cold water, feeling waves of magic flickering against my hands. The pool had a presence that awed me, the result – I saw – of magic pouring through from an unknown source and into the pocket dimension that played host to the Sisterhood. It explained so much about them. Their patron was a power that all men feared. I held my breath as I spoke her name aloud.

“Circe.”

And she was suddenly there, rising from the pool. No water dripped off her, for the pool was, in some ways, part of her. Her eyes met mine and, just for a second, she winked at me. I could sense the endless strata of power surrounding her and plunging downwards towards infinity. There were some that whispered that she was merely an extremely powerful sorceress who had adopted an even older name, but I knew better. I was looking into the eyes of a goddess.

“My lady,” I said. I felt oddly reassured by her wink. “I need your help, on my behalf and that of a lost girl.”

Circe’s voice hadn’t changed, even as she floated above the water. “I may not interfere, save to punish those who are given to me or to repay debts,” she said. “Do you feel that I can assist you, knowing that there may be a steep price?”

I took a breath. If I was wrong about this...there were far worse things than frogs to spend the rest of one’s life as. Circe would definitely take it the wrong way. “I believe that you owe me something,” I said, and braced myself for thunderbolts. “You transformed me without my permission.”

Circe said nothing. She just floated there, waiting for me to continue. “I read about you after we first met,” I said. “You’re bound by your own nature. You can only harm men who have offended against women, like the men who would have harmed me if you hadn’t interfered. I am not a man and I have not offended against women. Why did you transfigure me?”

I pressed my case, gambling everything on a single roll of the dice. “Before I was transformed, I had problems grasping the underlying nature of magic,” I admitted. “My mind, influenced by the mundane world, had problems working magic. Afterwards, after you transformed me and I struggled to transform myself back, I found that magic flowed easily and I took another step away from the mundane. I think that you were...hired to transform me into something.”

Circe’s gaze flashed fire, literally. “No one hires me to do anything,” she said. There were still no thunderbolts. I remained human. “Your master wished a favour and I obliged.”

I nodded. I’d guessed that Master Revels, desperate for a successor whatever it took, had been willing to arrange for his apprentice to run afoul of one of the Great Powers, knowing that if she failed to save herself she would never be able to master the more complex magic used by the greater magicians. Circe had obliged, although I wondered why – and knew that I didn’t dare ask. Come to think of it, perhaps I did know; she might well have been the person – or Great Power – who had informed Master Revels about Mr Pygmalion. Perhaps he’d been handed over to her for punishment, once the Thirteen had finished stripping his brain of anything useful.