Scepters (85 page)

“We
can only take the time we have,” Wendra reminded him—more than once.

He
thought it was Novdi when the soarer abruptly appeared once more. She walked
from the mirror square into the trapezoidal room where the three spent most of
their time. Nor did the soarer hover, but stood on the amber floor before
Alucius and Wendra. They sat on the ends of the bed, and Wendra cradled Alendra
in her arms. Even though Alucius was seated, his head was almost level with
that of the standing soarer. The soarer’s wings carried but the faintest hint
of green and gold iridescence.

The last skill I can provide is the one that will decide whether
you can survive while you do what is necessary to stop the ifrits
. The
soarer paused.

Alucius
got the sense that she was panting, but he could not see that she was breathing
hard.

You must learn how to anchor yourself. You must link your
lifethreads with the threads of all that is around you. The ifrits cannot do
that. Watch…

Alucius
focused on the soarer, who, young-looking as she appeared, also seemed worn and
tired. Still, he could sense the thin threads that extended from her lifethread
and hooked to the amber of the walls, even to the silvery metal.

As
quickly as the threads had seemed to meld, they disengaged, and the soarer
stood unlinked.

You must try. When you are so linked, no force brought by an
ifrit can touch you or harm you.

Alucius
stood, trying to spin off thin threads.

No! The threads are part of you. They must stay part of you. You
cast them loose, and you lose part of what you are.

Alucius
swallowed. He had sensed both the command and the true fear from the soarer, a
fear so real it had frozen him for a moment. Was what they were trying that
dangerous?

It is most dangerous. You can link to power and obtain it, but
that is even more dangerous
. A hint of humor appeared, coloring the
words that followed.
Anything that confers power bears
danger
. She looked at Wendra.
You also must master
this. Your mate cannot protect you, nor you him
.

Alucius
tried once more, visualizing the finest threads of his being, almost like hair
extending forth, but remaining anchored to him.

Better, but they must be stronger, and there must be more of
them.

Alucius
watched as Wendra attempted to replicate what the soarer had demonstrated.

Hold the threads to you…

At
least a glass had passed before the soarer held up a tiny hand.
Enough. If you practice well, you will be strong enough to
protect yourself
.

“How
will this protect us?” asked Wendra.

When you so link to the world, you cannot be taken by the power
of their Tables or their lifeforce. Isolation from the world makes one
vulnerable. Linking more tightly to the world creates strength. You will need
that ability to save our
…
your world from being
drained and destroyed
…

“Will
they use the Tables to drain the world and its lifeforce? Or can they tap the
world directly?” asked Alucius.

They must use the Tables to begin with. Once the master ifrits
are established here, they will be able to tap the world directly—as they had
begun to do before the Cataclysm. They will come as once they did, flooding
through the tubes and Tables.

“Did
they just add the Tables to the web that already was?” asked Wendra.

It was not… it is not a web… those lines are part of the
lifethreads of the world itself. Were we strong enough, we could travel the
threads, as once we did, as you can.

“Without
a Table or a portal?”

Yes. The Tables are necessary for the ifrits. That is their
strength and their weakness.

Alucius
didn’t see a weakness. “What weakness?”

They must use a Table, or a location that once held a Table or is
otherwise powered, as by one of the scepters. They can also transport those who
cannot use the Table themselves. That is a great strength. If you will but
learn, you can travel anywhere on the major lifewebs, but you cannot carry
another
…
The other weakness is that excessive use of
the Tables will drain a world far sooner
…

Alucius
nodded. “Not too many people should use them?”

Use by a handful will not harm the world, but use by thousands or
the transport of large weights of metals will wear down a world before its
time, and it will die, and then so will everything upon it. Even the existence
of many Tables over centuries will wear down a world… Enough… you must do what
is necessary… If you wish your children to survive and prosper, you must travel
the dark tubes to the world of the ifrits. Only there can you stop them.

“Why
didn’t you?” asked Alucius.

We could not. We cannot travel the dark tubes. Even entering one
will kill a soarer. Nor did we know about the scepters then.

Scepters?
The soarer had never mentioned them before, and now she spoke as though they
were of great import. He had so many questions. “Why can we…” Alucius stopped. “Because
they helped form us?” The very thought that he and Wendra were somehow related
to the ifrits was distasteful, and he’d shied away from it in the years since
he had first learned that.

Wendra’s
eyes widened, but she did not speak.

You are of this world, of another world, and of the world of the
ifrits, and you are of yourself. We are but of ourselves and this world, and
that has not proved enough strength…

“But
you brought me here. You’ve done so many things,” protested Wendra.

I did not bring you. Those with strength did. Our fate was sealed
from the first, for we can have either skill or strength. We cannot have both.
Skill is not strength. Soarers are most skilled, but you are far greater in
strength. Skill can be taught, once the intelligence is there. We have either
intelligence or strength. We have never had both. You do. You must use your
strength to find one of the scepters and take it to where it can destroy the
access of the ifrits to Corns forever.

Scepters
again? The soarer’s thoughts seemed almost fragmented.

Alucius
had never heard any mention of a scepter. Or had he? Wasn’t there a mention of
a scepter of the day in one of the old rhymes? And there had been the statue in
Dulka—it had to have been Dulka—that had borne a scepter tipped with blue
flame. “What are the scepters? Where are they?”

They were a symbol of the Duarchy, and they had a function.

“What
function?” pressed Alucius.

They made the Tables possible. They created stresses, fractures,
in the lines of lifeforce that hold the world together. If they are not either
reunited with their source, or one of them destroyed, in time .
. .
There was the sense of a shrug.

“Then
what?” asked Wendra, a trace of irritation in her voice.

The lifeforce webs will shrivel and die, and so will all your
descendants. How long this will take, we do not know. Many hundreds of years,
but it will happen.

“How
did the scepters create the Tables?”

Each contains lifeforce from all the worlds held and drained by
the ifrits. Each world contributed a small fraction of its lifeforce. The
tension between the two scepters allowed a disruption in the balance of forces
on a world. That imbalance makes possible the creation of the translation tubes
between worlds, and between Tables and portals.

“And
we need to destroy the scepters?” asked Alucius. “Or one of them?”

Need is what one makes of it
. There was an impression of a
headshake, although the soarer’s head did not move.
It gets
more difficult to retain lucidity. You need only to destroy one scepter
…

“How
do we destroy something like that?” asked Wendra. “Where do we find it?”

Find it… you must… you can… it is twisted silver and black,
locked in pink and purple, and it cannot be far from a ley line, a world
lifethread, and it has its own… feeling… Its appearance… we cannot say. It
could look like anything. We have never seen it, only felt what it did
…
The soarer slumped, as if she could hardly hold herself erect on the
amberstone.
Destruction… that is simply said, and most
difficult. You… must reunite it with the master scepter on the world from which
it was brought… find the master scepter on the world of the ifrits and reunite
them. You must not wait… for in instants… will come a great convulsion… and you
will be trapped there, and die with that world
…

Alucius
looked at Wendra.

You must practice what I have taught you. And then you must rest
before you go. You must be refreshed before searching for the scepters and
before you travel the dark tubes.

“We
must act quickly?” pressed Wendra.

If you would save yourselves and this world we would leave to
you. I must go… little time for me remains… for any of us… Do what you will… I…
we can offer no more… No more
… The soarer walked out into the adjoining
room to the square mirror and was gone.

“She
didn’t say anything more,” Alucius said. “She didn’t even soar.”

“She’s
dying. They all are,” Wendra said. “It’s so sad.”

“Dying?”

“Can’t
you feel it? There’s so little lifeforce behind her.”

Alucius
hadn’t thought to look. “They always seemed so powerful. So invincible.”

“Did
she look invincible?”

He
shook his head. Inadvertently, he yawned. “I’m tired. I didn’t do that much…”

“Using
Talent is work, and you’re still tired from what you’ve been through.”

“We
should practice a little more.”

“Just
a little,” Wendra replied.

Alucius
stifled another yawn and squared his shoulders.

Salaan, Lanachrona

A
reddish purple mist erupted from the center of the Table. As the mist vanished,
the figure of a tall, muscular ifrit was revealed. His eyes were deep purple,
his alabaster face almost translucently white, his shimmering hair black. He
did not smile as he stepped off the Table and looked first at Trezun, then at
Tarolt.

Trezun
bowed immediately.

“Fieldmaster
Lasylt? I had not expected…” Tarolt inclined his head respectfully, but not
deeply.

“Whom
else did you expect with so much at stake?” The deep voice reverberated through
the Table chamber. “Whom else…?” His eyes caught a glimpse of his visage
reflected in the now-silvered Table top. “The dark hair… the paleness… it…”

“It
takes some getting used to,” Tarolt said. “We stand ready to do your bidding.”

“Where
are the scepters? Do you have them under guard?”

“We
have located but one, and there is no functioning Table at that locale.”

“Is
there a portal?” demanded Lasylt.

“Ah…
yes. There was once a Table.”

“And
you have not attempted to recover it?”

“With
but two of us remaining…” Tarolt pointed out.

“I
see your problem, especially given a strong Talent-steer being loose. Once I
have rested, I will procure it, and with it we will locate the other.”

“Are
the scepters that… critical?” asked Trezun.

“You
sent word that this Talent-steer had killed a fully translated Efran. Is that
not true?”

“Yes,
Lasylt. But he used local lifeforce attached to local projectile weapons.”

The
newly arrived Efran’s violet eyes blazed. “You do not understand, I see.”

“But…
a projectile weapon?”

“No…
any Talent-steer who can bind lifeforce into inanimate metals and minerals—that
is the danger, because that ability can direct the use of the scepters. Or have
you found this Talent-steer?”

“No.
He made a translation to Blackstear, but he is no longer there.”

There
was a long silence. The senior fieldmaster seemed to shudder, then took a deep
breath.

“Can
we assist you?” asked Tarolt.

“Assist
me? Ah, yes.” An ironic laugh filled the room. “You will. If only Talent were
linked to intelligence. If only… but we cannot change what is and what is not.”
Lasylt turned to Trezun. “Are there any other Tables that can be constructed or
rebuilt rapidly?”

“Waleryn—the
shadow-engineer in Lustrea—has been working in Norda to re-create the Table
there. He has it operating for communications and believes that he can have it
fully operational within a few days. Because of its location, once it is
operational, it will boost the grid strength by another fifth.”

“That
is the first encouraging information I’ve had from you.” A hint of a smile
crossed the taller ifrit’s face. “With another Table after that, we will have
enough to translate third-level Talents.” Lasylt nodded, “We could have three
hundred Efrans here within a year, then, and we will be able to warm the
atmosphere more. In our absence, the planet has reverted toward chill, and we
must have greater warmth to boost the lifeforce mass. Even so…” The faintest
frown crossed the broad forehead. “We cannot undo all of what has already been
done.”

“What
has been done?”

“I
will explain… after I rest.” Lasylt walked toward the doorway leading to the
steps.

Trezun
and Tarolt followed.

When
Alucius and Wendra woke, aroused by the plaintive wails of a hungry Alendra,
indirect light filled the tower room, creating an amber glow that suffused
everything. Alucius put his arms around Wendra, holding her close for a moment.
After a time, he sat up and took Alendra, to allow Wendra to move into a more
comfortable position to nurse their daughter.