The Rogue Knight (34 page)

“Kindness works better with him,” Mira said. “Minimus, you're under orders to protect me.”

“I'll always defend my lord,” Minimus said.

“Your loyalty is commendable,” Callista said graciously. “Was that better?” she whispered to Mira.

Mira gave her a thumbs-up.

Callista stroked the arms of her rocking chair. “We must work together. The Rogue Knight may have Honor's enchanting power, but the threat we all currently face is Morgassa. Unchecked, she will undo all of us—me, you, the Rogue Knight, even Trillian. She generates figments that turn any they touch into her creatures. Her horde will absorb us all unless she is stopped. How are the rest of you enjoying my dessert?”

“It's good,” Jace said.

The tension had diminished. Minimus sheathed his blade and sat down. Cole relaxed. Most of the others muttered positively about the sorbet.

“The grinaldi representative has not finished his portion,” Callista observed.

“It was wonderful,” Twitch said. “My stomach just gets a little upset when we talk about the end of all life in Elloweer.”

“Out with it,” Callista demanded. “Too minty? Too sweet?”

Twitch bowed his head. “It was squirming.”

“That just means it was fresh!” Callista exclaimed. “Who wants to eat a dead sorbet?”

“How would we work together?” Mira asked.

Callista clucked her tongue. “I suppose if you each take a bite, we can consider his sorbet eaten and the dessert a success.”

“I mean against Morgassa,” Mira said.

“What would happen if you went to fight her right now?” Callista asked.

“Her figments would take us over,” Mira said.

“They would change you into mindless servants under her control,” Callista said. “Long before you got within sight of her, you would merge with her army. Anyone you harmed along the way would be some poor innocent enslaved to her.”

“Can they be changed back?” Cole asked.

“Only by separating them from her power,” Callista said. “Morgassa must be unmade. Isn't anyone going to finish the sorbet?”

“I've got it,” Jace said, taking Twitch's cup.

“Don't hog it all to yourself if others crave a final taste,” Callista said.

Jace let Cole and Dalton each have a bite.

“Morgassa has a lot of power,” Mira said. “If we kill her, won't we let it all loose?”

“Her power is grounded in her,” Callista said. “It isn't shared with anyone else. It is stable. If you kill her, the power will perish with her. Mira, when your power roamed free as Carnag, your death could have destabilized it enough to incite a catastrophe. But now that your power is once again grounded in you, your power will pass away quietly at your death. As will mine.”

“But how could we get to her?” Honor asked. “Her figments would turn us.”

“This is why Trillian sent you to me,” Callista said. “Morgassa's figments merge with people and change them. But if you have already been sufficiently changed, there would be nothing to merge with. I'm not talking about a minor cosmetic alteration. I mean a deep, fundamental change like her figments are trying to provoke.”

Cole met eyes with Dalton. He could tell he and his friend were wondering the same thing: What kind of change was she talking about?

“You can make us immune to her figments?” Honor asked.

“If you let me change you enough, yes,” Callista said. “All except Minimus. He has already been sufficiently changed by the Rogue Knight. No figment could touch him. I would have to destroy his connection to the Rogue Knight before I could enchant him.”

“My enchanted nature is meant to remain secret,” Minimus said.

“Then you shouldn't have come here,” Callista replied. “The connections are plain to me. The Rogue Knight works excellent enchantments. He wields impressive power. Honor has some real potential.”

Minimus turned to Honor. “The Rogue Knight and I are truly fashioned from your stolen power?” he asked.

“My power was stolen by my father,” Honor said. “That much I know.”

“It was channeled to whoever became the Rogue Knight,” Callista assured him.

“Perhaps I spoke rashly before,” Minimus said. “I will always side with him and defend him, but the Rogue Knight needs to know of this. I'm not sure whether he fully understands where his power originated. I have never known him to turn a blind eye to injustice.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Honor said.

“Honor, you need the Rogue Knight,” Callista said. “He and his followers are the strongest allies we have in the fight against Morgassa. Her figments cannot touch them. With the Rogue Knight at your side, the chance for success increases.”

“I believe he would aid us,” Minimus said. “I'll ask him myself.”

“What about Brady?” Cole asked. “Why were the Enforcers holding him? Did they think he could still help?”

Callista frowned, rubbing her chin. “He would be of little direct use. The power is no longer anchored to him. Perhaps they hoped to gain insight into the power by studying him. Perhaps they thought Morgassa would be sympathetic toward him since she originated from him. At this stage, I believe Morgassa would only be a danger to him.”

“You mentioned you could change us?” Honor said. “Into what?”

Callista made a point of glancing around the room at the cups. “I see your desserts are all finished. As a reward, I will introduce you to my Hall of Masks.” She rocked up out of her chair. “Follow me.”

C
HAPTER

 35 

MASKS

A
s everyone rose from their seats, Cole and Dalton drifted over to a corner. “I was with Twitch on the dessert,” Dalton whispered.

“It didn't taste bad,” Cole said.

“No, but it
moved
.”

“I hear you.”

“Do you think it's still alive in our stomachs?”

“I'd rather not think about it,” Cole said with a disgusted shudder.

“What do you think she's going to change us into?” Dalton wondered.

“Hopefully something cool.”

“Like a squirmy dessert?”

Cole had to stifle a laugh. “I think she totally wants to help us. But I get why you're worried. She's a little . . . different.”

“That's why you shouldn't live alone at the bottom of a lake.”

Callista led them down a rounded corridor that felt more like an underground tunnel than a hallway in a home. The corridor opened into a dim, rectangular room with a large collection of primitive wooden masks hung against the walls.

The Grand Shaper waved a hand, and globes of light brightened the room. “How does a space get so dusty when nobody uses it?” she complained, frowning. “I had no idea the Hall of Masks was so untidy! If I'd had even thirty minutes' notice you were coming, this would have been a very different experience. You're my first company in decades.”

“You have a lovely home,” Mira said. “We appreciate all you're doing for us. These masks are interesting. So diverse!”

“Enchanters have different specialties,” Callista said. “Mine is making masks. Each of these masks can work a changing that will transform you into whatever the mask represents. Take a look and see what masks interest you, but please don't touch any of them yet.”

They spread out and started studying the walls like patrons in a gallery. The masks were all designed to fit humans. None looked very realistic. Some were just carved wood. Others were embellished by beads, stones, leather, paint, or feathers.

Cole could tell what most of the masks represented, although a few were too plain or vague. Most depicted animals. He saw birds of prey, bulls, bears, canines, felines, boars, alligators, apes, rams, sharks, horses, serpents, elk, and even some exotic animals like a walrus and a rhinoceros. There were also masks that looked like certain types of people, including clowns, knights, and maidens.

“Too many choices,” Dalton said, standing near Cole. “Flying would be cool.”

Cole gazed up at a nearby eagle mask. Or was it a hawk?

“How would you like being covered in feathers?” Cole asked.

“Would they be real feathers?” Dalton questioned. “Or wooden, like the mask?”

“I don't know,” Cole said. “It would be strange to have a beak.”

“Good-bye, lips,” Dalton agreed.

“Any suggestions?” Jace asked loudly.

“Keep in mind that each mask depicts something you'll become,” Callista said. “You'll see differently, hear differently, move differently. Choose something that appeals to you. Don't forget that you're heading into battle and that you need to travel. With the mask on, you'll enjoy a host of benefits. You won't need rest. You won't require food. You'll have increased strength. And it will be virtually impossible for anyone to change you into something else.”

“Can we try some out?” Mira asked.

“It wouldn't be wise to sample more than one,” Callista cautioned. “You can lose yourself in these masks. Each new mask you try significantly increases the risk of submerging your identity. Once you select a mask, you should go outside, put it on, and never touch another one.”

“We can forget who we are?” Dalton asked.

Callista nodded. “With the mask, you become yourself as a falcon, or a bear, or a knight. It's then up to you whether you remain the falcon, or the bear, or the knight. Only you can remove the mask. If you choose to leave it on, you will live out your days in your new form. You would only last a few months. You'd burn bright and strong, and then you would be gone. It has happened before. I only lend these masks in times of great need.”

“What about if we wear one for a few days?” Twitch asked.

“You will cause no permanent damage, so long as you remove it in the end,” Callista said. “I would strongly discourage wearing one for more than a week.”

“I can't help but feel drawn to the knight,” Honor said, pointing at a certain mask.

“Then it might be for you,” Callista said. She walked over to a support beam and squinted at it. “This wood is rotting. And there are traces of mildew. You see a room differently when you have guests. Suddenly all the imperfections you've learned to ignore leap out at you.”

“The room looks fine,” Skye said.

Callista waved her hands dismissively. “You can't win against the damp. The worst of the mist stays out, but the humidity is unavoidable.”

“How do you keep the mist away?” Cole asked.

“I don't,” Callista said. “There are empty pockets like this scattered about the deeper portions of Fog Lake. I claimed this one. The mist grifters use them as well.”

“Did you build this house?” Dalton asked.

“I had aid from members of the Red Guard,” Callista said. “Trillian has been generous. A couple of his Red Guard stayed here with me for years. Eventually, they passed away. I never asked for replacements, and he never sent any.”

“I like the bull,” Dalton said. “Seems like that would be tough in battle.”

“You'd definitely have some brute strength,” Cole agreed. “And you'll be popular at rodeos.”

“Take down the mask you want,” Callista said. “Don't put it on. Bring it out front and wait for me.”

Everyone began choosing masks. Skye took a bear. Jace picked a wolf. Mira selected a bighorn sheep. Twitch grabbed an eagle. After some deliberation, Cole walked away from an ape mask and claimed a mountain lion.

On his way out of the Hall of Masks, Cole felt a hand on his shoulder. “I need to speak with you for a moment,” Callista said.

She led Cole back into the room as the others departed. In a moment they were alone.

“Did I choose a bad one?” Cole asked, holding up the mask.

“No, the mountain lion is a fine choice for our current purposes,” Callista said. “I would have warned anyone who opted for something inconvenient. I want to discuss the power you wield. I have met many enchanters over the years, but your shaping power is the most uncommon I have sensed. Tell me about it.”

Cole explained about the time he made the Jumping Sword work. He went on to give examples of his subsequent failed attempts.

“I can't solve this problem for you,” Callista said. “But I can offer some advice. The issue is not simply a matter of mental exertion or force of will. If you wanted that alligator mask over there, would you try to will it to come to you?”

“I'd go grab it,” Cole said.

“That's right,” she said. “Your will would motivate you to take action, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“But your will alone would not suffice.”

“Right.”

“Your shaping talent is similar,” she said. “You were feeling strong emotions the first time you accidentally used your power. You thought the emotions were the key, but they may have masked what you really need to learn. You were so distracted by your panic that you failed to recognize the source of your power. You harnessed it accidentally, never understanding how you drew energy from yourself and infused it into your sword. Instead of replicating the successful act, you've focused too much on imitating the emotion of the moment.”

Cole closed his eyes and focused on himself, searching for a power source. He couldn't sense anything unusual. “I don't feel it.”

“You're like an infant just learning that he can open and close his hand,” Callista said. “The nerves are there, the muscles are present, but you have not yet mastered using them deliberately.”

“How do I find the right muscles?” Cole asked.

“I can't show you,” Callista said. “And it's difficult to describe—like explaining sound to the deaf, or sight to the blind. I know where I reach to access my power. I use my mind much as I would to take a step, or make a fist, or speak a word, but the act is not physical. I'm not flexing a certain part of my body. And yet I'm commanding my power in a similar way. Pay attention to finding your power. Learn what it feels like. Discover what you must do to tap into it. Don't fixate on the emotion. Did you notice Skye as we were selecting masks?”

“Not really,” Cole said. “I was concentrating on which I would choose.”

“She looked at the masks with fear and awe,” Callista said. “She could sense the power they contain. She may not have apprehended all the fine details, but she touched her mask hesitantly and handled it gingerly because she felt it throbbing with energy. Do you feel the power in your mask?”

“I believe you that it works,” Cole said. “But I don't feel anything unusual.”

“This is a skill you can develop,” Callista said. “Learn to recognize power in others. Become more conscious of your own power. It's there. I sense it clearly. Once you learn to draw from it, then you can start directing it with your will, and perhaps increase its potency with your emotion.”

“I remember feeling it,” Cole said. “I knew energy was going from me into the sword. But after the flow stopped, I couldn't start it again.”

“That's good!” Callista said. “At least you have some idea what you're looking for! Find that feeling you remember. That is where you need to focus. In some ways, it's easier to recognize your power when you're calm and untroubled than when you're distressed. Search out your talent in quiet moments. Don't push too hard. You've done it once. You can do it again.”

“Thanks,” Cole said. “I think that will help.”

“I hope so,” Callista said. “You never know. All shaping is slippery. You're never done learning. But it can be especially elusive at the start. I would be interested to see what you can do with your power once you learn to access it. Your gift is so unusual that I can't predict the applications beyond what you've described to me. You'll be in uncharted territory. Shall we join the others?”

“One question,” Cole said. “I'm trying to find my friends and get home. We're from Outside.”

“A Wayminder could get you home, my boy,” Callista said. “But only temporarily. Those you're closest to won't remember you. And you'll get drawn back here before long.”

“Trillian told me there might be a way to change that,” Cole said.

Callista pursed her lips and blew a long sigh. “I suppose, theoretically. Trillian routinely names possibilities that the rest of us can scarcely imagine. It would involve realigning how the five kingdoms are configured. I know of nobody but Trillian with enough power to attempt it.”

“But it's possible?” Cole asked.

“In theory,” Callista said. “The Grand Shaper of Creon might have some thoughts on the matter. And who knows what these shapecrafters can accomplish. But in practice, the chances are not good. Learn to enjoy your life here, just in case.”

“Okay,” Cole said, disappointed but not entirely surprised. He had known it wouldn't be easy. “I guess we can go out now.”

He followed Callista back through the rounded hall to her sitting room and out to the front of her cottage. The others waited with their masks. A dome of dark fog pressed against all sides of their clear bubble.

“Honor,” Callista said. “Which is your horse?”

Honor pointed out the steed she had ridden.

Staring at the animal, Callista flexed her fingers. The horse swelled, gaining size and muscle. “I've changed your mount so that it will bear you as a knight as quickly and tirelessly as the rest of us can run. Minimus?”

“Mine is there,” the Halfknight said, indicating his smallish horse.