The Book of Deacon (53 page)

"Is that so?" Calypso asked.

"And I can barely move," she said.

"I suppose you would like me to undo that
little spell I cast," she said.

"I would appreciate it," Myranda
answered.

"You know, you could stay down here, if you
like," Calypso offered.

"I would love to, but I have another trainer
to see," Myranda explained.

"Who?" Calypso asked.

"Lain. Do you suppose you could undo the
spell and finish this conversation on the surface? I feel a bit odd
with my face plunged down in the water," Myranda said.

"Lain? I cannot picture him . . . never mind,
bring him down, too! The more the merrier," she said,
hopefully.

"Ouch!" Myranda exclaimed.

"What is it?" Calypso asked.

"Myn is trying to pull me out of the water.
She is terrified of it," Myranda said.

"Well, well. We are just full of excuses,
aren't we? Very well. I shall see you tomorrow, bright and early.
And do bring Deacon!" she said, touching her fingers to her
pendant.

In a typically playful fashion, the mermaid
neglected to allow time for Myranda to withdraw her head from the
water before undoing the spell. The result was a fit of coughing
and sputtering as she hoisted her head up and took her first real
breath of air since she'd gone below. She was soaked to the bone,
and though it was far warmer here than it should have been for
winter, she was beginning to shiver. As she began to walk away, she
heard her teacher surface.

"Here, just to show that I am not all bad,"
she called out.

Myranda heard her snap her fingers sharply
and instantly the water fell away from her like a sheet, a good
deal of it splashing on Myn. With the water gone, she immediately
felt more comfortable.

"I will be sure to teach you that one. It
tends to be rather handy," she said, leaping up and splashing down
gracefully in the water.

Myn shook off the water and looked scornfully
at the lake.

"Don't be too hard on her, Myn. She is just
lonely. It makes people do strange things. I can vouch for that,"
Myranda said as she headed to the dining hall.

Deacon had apparently retired to continue his
scribing, as he was not about. She enjoyed a meal, and headed to
Lain. In keeping with the recent trend, he seemed to be fighting
faster and harder than any day before. It was a struggle to keep up
with him, and as his attacks landed more and more frequently,
Myranda slowly began to treat their encounters as real battles. She
found herself fighting not to learn, but to win.

There was a feeling. It wasn't fear, or
anger, or hate. It was something deeper. It stirred her to swing
harder and move faster. She felt it more strongly every time she
landed a hit, and found herself longing for more when the training
was done. At the end of the day, she retired to her bed, hardly
aware of any blows she had taken. By morning, there would be no
sign of a bruise, as that which Deacon had spoken of was beginning
to happen. Her mind began to work at a healing spell instinctively
after an attack, and continued to work in some small way even while
she slept.

#

Trigorah stood in the throne room, her eyes
scanning tapestries and portraits. Her elfish lineage had afforded
her a very long life. She turned her eyes to the portrait of King
Erdrick II. It was under his rule that she had begun her military
career. He had blessed the creation of the Elites. He had even been
the one to promote her to the level of general. He had been a great
man. Trigorah had seen his son grow, and was present at the
coronation. That was many years ago.

There were footsteps behind her. Trigorah
turned, and swiftly dropped to one knee, head bowed.

"Your Imperial and Royal Majesty," she
uttered.

"Rise, and dispense with the titles," the
king replied wearily.

General Teloran stood. There was a time when
it would have been unthinkable to be surprised by the appearance of
a king. He should have been preceded by fanfare, by a royal
procession. In the beginning, he was. Alas, as the years passed and
the war marched on, the king had become less and less a leader. It
was as though he shared the plight of his land. The decades of war
had steadily drained them both of life and spirit. Now he was a
withered husk of a man. When not attending to the affairs his
people, King Erdrick III paced the halls of his nearly empty
castle. His eyes had a faded, distant quality. The eyes of a man
who had done things that could not be undone.

"Awaiting General Bagu, no doubt?" the king
asked as he settled down into the throne.

"I am," the general replied.

The king nodded.

"He has this conflict firmly in hand, it
would appear," he said.

"Not as firmly as he might, but surely you
are aware," Trigorah answered.

"Bagu has not seen fit to involve me in his
actions in some time. Even my seal and signature, which he had so
meticulously seen applied to each order and dispatch, has not been
requested in months," he explained. "It was my hope that perhaps
his--"

The door to Bagu's chamber opened and his
voice issued forth.

"General Teloran, step inside, please," Bagu
requested.

"General, the king was speaking," Trigorah
stated.

"Your Majesty, the matter is of great
importance," said Bagu.

"Go. The war comes first. Always, the war
comes first," the king said.

Trigorah reluctantly stepped through the door
and closed it behind her. Bagu was seated at his desk. His normally
calm and collected expression was tempered with the tiniest hint of
impatience and concern.

"I must object to your behavior in the
presence of the king," said Trigorah. She was in no position to
issue a reprimand, but nonetheless her tone carried a sting.

"Noted. What news have you of the girl?" he
demanded.

"She has not left the cave of the beast, but
I am confident that she is still alive," Trigorah explained.

"What possible source can you have for such
confidence?" Bagu asked.

"She has shown herself to be resourceful,
intelligent, and resilient. Furthermore, the assassin is with her.
If he wishes her to be alive, she shall be alive," Trigorah
explained.

"Epidime has been unable to detect her. He
has been known to track targets to their graves and beyond," Bagu
reminded her.

"Epidime is skilled, there can be no arguing
that. However, he is not infallible. With all due respect to him as
a fellow general, he is blind of his own shortcomings," she
replied.

"And the sword?" he asked.

"The Red Shadow would not have been so
foolish as to bring it with him. He knows we seek him, as well as
the girl and the sword. The scoundrel is wise enough not to place
all of our targets such that they may be gathered in a single
stroke," she reasoned. "No, he would have concealed it. That said,
if he does not wish it found, it will not be found."

General Bagu steepled his fingers once more
and pressed them to his lips.

"You found the assassin's go-between once.
You shall find him again. When you do, you will secure the sword
and bring it to me," he decreed. "I sincerely doubt that this
Myranda still lives, but see to it that your men are vigilant.
Important times are at hand and we cannot afford to be caught by
surprise."

"General, if I may make a suggestion . . ."
Trigorah attempted.

"You may not. You have your orders. If you
wish ever to be returned to battlefront command, I suggest you
follow them," he hissed.

"As you wish," she replied.

General Trigorah bit her tongue and pulled
open the door of the office. As she marched through the throne
room, she looked to the king one last time. The old man's gaze, a
knowing look of defeat, caught hers briefly. Trigorah looked away.
She had a task at hand. However difficult, however misguided, she
had a job to do. It was her duty to succeed. And succeed she
would.

#

The next day, Myranda awoke to her normal
routine. Deacon, while having breakfast with her, was thrilled to
hear that Calypso intended to involve him in the training. He raved
for a time about what gray magics he could teach that would mesh
perfectly with water magics. His enthusiasm was contagious, and by
the time the two had set off for the lake, she was more excited
about learning the things he had spoken of than the things Calypso
had in mind.

Myn, however, felt differently. She was no
fool, and when it became clear that they were headed back to that
wretched lake, she leapt in front of them, spreading her wings to
block their way.

"What is this all about?" Deacon asked.

"Ever since we had to make it through that
waterfall, she hates the water. She is trying to protect me from
it," Myranda said.

"Oh. Well, that is quite noble, if perhaps a
bit misguided. You really have nothing to worry about. It can't
hurt you if you don't let it," Deacon said, directing the final
comments at the dragon.

"I think that is what she is trying to do.
She won't let the water hurt me," Myranda said.

"Ah, yes. Well, let us just go visit Lain,
then," Deacon offered with a strange tone and a wink.

The two walked toward Lain's hut. Myn
followed for a few steps, but paused.

"Come on! Let's visit him. I promise, we
won't even fight," Myranda said.

Myn looked questioningly at Myranda. The
dragon then turned back to the spot at which they had been
standing. She sniffed curiously.

"This way!" Deacon urged.

Myn lashed at the empty space with her tail.
After the whip crack of it striking something, the veil of
invisibility, as well as the pair of illusions, dropped away.
Deacon was hopping painfully on one leg and Myranda was
laughing.

"Clever little thing, aren't you. Practically
any other animal would have followed the illusions. I suppose that
I had best look into both covering our scent and producing a false
one. I ought to thank you for illustrating a weakness in my
methods," Deacon said.

With a bit of effort, the trio managed to
make it to the lake again. Myranda tried her best to convince Myn
the water was safe.

"Permit me to demonstrate," Deacon said.

He waded out into the lake until he was
waist-deep. Myn watched cautiously.

"There, you see? Nothing has happened!" he
said.

"Myn, watch me. I promise you that nothing
bad will happen. And when I am in the water and you can see that it
is safe, you can come in, too. Then you will know that there is
nothing to be afraid of, we won't have this problem anymore,"
Myranda said.

Myn, with the utmost of reluctance, stepped
aside to let Myranda wade in beside Deacon. She stood, chilled a
bit, but unharmed. When a few more moments passed with no ill
effects, Myn began to edge closer to the water. She touched the
surface and leapt back at the sudden cool feeling. After building
courage again, she ventured back to the water's edge and dipped in
a single foot. It had no sooner broken the surface than Myranda and
Deacon suddenly jerked beneath the surface.

Myn sprang backward. When her friends didn't
reappear, she panicked, finally taking to the air and gliding
across the top of the water. She could see the two humans streaking
along the bottom of the lake, being dragged by the mermaid from the
day before. When the center of the lake had been reached the water
creature touched her pendant and the pair of humans dropped to the
lake floor.

"Why did you do that!?" Myranda scolded.

"Well, you were just standing in the water.
There is only so much daylight, we've got to use every drop of it,"
Calypso said.

"But Myn was just starting to trust me that
the water was safe. You may as well be a sea monster, pulling us
under like that. I promised her that nothing would happen!" Myranda
said.

"I think she knows nothing is wrong. Look,"
Calypso said, pointing up to the surface.

Myranda looked up. Through the rippling
surface they could see Myn skimming just above, looking down
longingly.

"Oh, drat. My potatoes," Deacon said,
realizing too late that the pair he had brought along as
anticipated rewards for good behavior floated to the surface.

Myn skillfully snatched them.

"You didn't earn those!" he cried after
her.

"She'll get tired and land eventually. Now,
before we get too deep into our studies, I think that we three are
long overdue for a chat. Learning magic is a fine way to spend a
day, but a good conversation is food for the soul. I find that
after a spirited exchange, I am far more prepared to do my casting,
and I think you will feel the same. So, where to begin? Have you
any questions for me?" Calypso asked.

"Well, I had been wondering . . ." Myranda
said, looking worriedly at Myn as she made another pass.

"Yes, what is it?" Calypso asked.

"How exactly did you get here? I know that
the rest of you were either born here, or entered through the cave.
You couldn't have," Myranda said.

"Oh, couldn't I? You are no doubt aware that
the cave is mostly filled with water for the vast majority of the
year. While it is draining, some of the water finds its way to the
mouth of the cave in the form of a stream. Most filters through a
honeycomb of tunnels and caverns that are full of water year
'round. At least one such cave connects with the ocean on the
landward side of a
very
treacherous rock formation that runs nearly the
entire coast.

"I was busy exploring said cave and I found
my way up into the then-flooded main section. It didn't stay
flooded long enough for me to find my way out again. As the water
drained away, I was forced further and further along until I
slipped into that smooth little bowl the waterfall has carved out.
To my surprise, I was helped to this lovely little lake and here I
have lived, quite happily, ever since. I can't say I don't miss the
other merfolk, but I wouldn't trade all that I have learned and
seen here for anything," she said.