Authors: Anne McCaffrey,Jody Lynn Nye
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Adventure, #Space Opera, #Science Fiction, #Interplanetary voyages, #Space ships, #Life on other planets, #Interplanetary voyages - Fiction, #Fantasy fiction, #People with disabilities, #Women, #Space ships - Fiction, #Women - Fiction
emerged from their burrow. Stooping in postures indicative of respect and healthy fear, they scurried toward the
floating chairs, halting some distance away. Keff noticed
Brannel among them, standing more erect than any of the
others. Still defying authority, Keff thought, with wry
admiration.
"Do you want to ask him what's going on?" Carialle said
through the implant.
"Remember what he said about being punished for
curiosity," Keff reminded her. 'These are the people he's
afraid of. If I single him out, he's in for it. I'll catch him
later for a private talk."
The elder, Alteis, approached and bowed low to the two
chair-holders. They ignored him, continuing to circle at ten
meters, calling out at one another.
"I knew I could not trust you to wait for Nokias to lead
us here, Asedow," Potria shouted angrily. "One day, your
eagerness to thrust out your hand for power will result in
having it cut off at the shoulder."
"You taunt me for breaking the rules when you also
didn't wait," Asedow retorted. "Where s Nokias, then?"
"I couldn't let you claim by default," Potria said, "so your
action forced me to follow at once. Now that I am here, I
restate that I should possess the silver cylinder and the
being inside. I will use it with greater responsibility than
you."
'The Ancient Ones would laugh at your disingenuous-ness, Potria," Asedow said, scornfully. "You want them just
to keep them from me. I declare," he shouted to the skies,
"that I am the legitimate keeper of these artifacts sent
down through the ages to me, and by my hope of promotion, I will use them wisely and well."
Potria circled Asedow, trying to get nearer to the great
cylinder, but he cut her off again and again. She directed
her chair to fly up and over him. He veered upward in a
flash, cackling maddeningly. She hated him, hated him for
thwarting her. At one time they had been friends, even
toyed with the idea of becoming lovers. She had hoped
that they could have been allies, taking power from Nokias
and that bitch Iranika and ruling the South between them
despite the fact that the first laws of the First Mages said
only one might lead. She and Asedow could never agree
on who that would be. As now, he wouldn't support her
claim, and she wouldn't support his. So they were forced
to follow archaic laws whose reasoning was laid down
thousands of years ago and might never be changed. The
two of them were set against one another like mad vermin
in a too-small cage. She or Asedow must conquer, must be
the clear winner in the final contest. Potria had
determined in her deepest heart that she would be the
victor.
The rustle in her mystic hearing told her that Asedow
was gathering power from the ley lines for an attack. He
had but to chase her away or knock her unconscious, and
the contest was his. Killing was unnecessary and would
only serve to make High Mage Nokias angry by depriving
him of a strong subject and ally. Potria began to wind in the
threads of power between her fingers, gathering and gathering until she had a web large enough to throw over him.
It would contain the force of Asedow s spell and knock him
out.
'That one is unworthy," she heard Asedow call out. "Let
me win, not her!"
Stretching the smothering web on her thumbs, she
spread out her arms wide in the prayer sign, hands upright
and palms properly turned in toward her to contain the
blessing.
"In the name ofUreth, the Mother World of Paradise, I
call all powers to serve me in this battle," she chanted.
Asedow flashed past her in his chariot, throwing his
spell. Raising herself, Potria dropped her spread counter-spell on top of him and laughed as his own blast of power
caught him. His chair wobbled unsteadily to a halt a hundred meters distant. His cursing was audible and he was
very angry. He switched his chair about on its axis. She saw
his face, dark with blood as a thundercloud. He panted
heavily.
'Thought you would have an easy win, did you?" Potria
called, tauntingly. She began to ready an attack other own.
Something not fatal but appropriate.
She felt disturbances in the ether. More mages were
coming, probably attracted by the buildup of power in this
barren, uninteresting place. Potria changed the character
of the cantrip she was molding. If she was to have an audience, she would give a good show and make a proper fool
of Asedow.
By now, her opponent hovered invisible in a spell-cloud of dark green smoke that roiled and rumbled.
Potria fancied she even saw miniature lightnings flash
within its depths. He, too, had observed the arrival of
more of their magical brethren, and it made him impatient. He struck while his spell was still insufficiently
prepared. Potria laughed and raised a single, slim hand,
fingers spread. The force bounced off the globe of protection she had wrought about herself, rushed outward,
and exploded on contact with the nearest solid object, a
tree, setting it ablaze. Some of it rebounded upon Asedow, shaking his chariot so hard that he nearly lost
control of it.
Having warded offAsedow's pathetic attack, Potria stole
a swift look at the newly arrived mages. They were all
minor lights from the East, probably upset that she and
Asedow had crossed the border into their putative realm.
By convention, they were bound to stay out of the middle
of a fairly joined battle, and so they hovered on the sidelines, swearing about me invasion by southern mages. So
long as they kept out of her way until she won, she didn't
care what they thought other.
Keff saw the five new arrivals blink into existence, well
beyond the battleground. The first two came to such a
screeching halt that he wondered if they had hurried to the
scene at a dead run and were having trouble braking. The
others proceeded with more caution toward the circling
combatants.
'The first arrivals remind me of something," Keff said,
"but I can't put my finger on what. Great effect, that sudden stop!"
"It looked like Singularity Drive," Carialle said, critically.
"Interesting that they've duplicated the effect unprotected
and in atmosphere."
'That's big magic," Keff said.
The new five were no sooner at the edge of the field
than the magiman and magiwoman let off their latest vol-ley at each other.
Smoke exploded in a plume from the green storm
cloud. It was shot along its expanse with lightning and
booms of thunder. Enwrapping the magiwoman in its
snakelike coils, it closed into a murky sphere with the
golden female at its center. Lights flashed inside and Keff
heard a scream. Whether it was fury, fear, or pain he
couldn't determine.
Suddenly, the sphere broke apart. The smoke dissipated
on the evening sly, leaving the female free. Her hair had
escaped from its elegant coif and stood out in crackling
tendrils. The shoulder of her robe was burned away,
showing the tawny flesh beneath. Eyes sparking, she
levitated upward, arms gathering and gathering armfuls of
nothing to her breast. Her hands chopped forward, and
lightning, liquid electricity, flew at her opponent.
The male crossed his forearms before himself in a gesture intended to ward away the attack, but only managed
to deflect some of it. Tiny fingers of white heat peppered
his legs and the runner of his chair, burning holes in his
robe and scorching the vehicles ornamentation. In order
to escape, he had to move away from Carialle toward the
open fields, where the lightning ceased to pursue him. Triumphantly, the female sailed in and spiraled around the
brainship in a kind of victory lap. In front of the ship, a
translucent brick wall built itself up row by row, until it was
as tall as Carialle herself.
Keff stared.
"Are they fighting over us?" he asked in disbelief.
Carialle took umbrage at the suggestion. "How dare
they?" she said. 'This is my ship, not the competition
trophy!"
The male did not intend to give up easily. As soon as the
cloud of lightning was gone, he headed back toward the
ship. Between his hands a blue-white globe was forming.
He threw it directly at the brick wall and the enchantress
behind it.
The female was insufficiently prepared and the ball
caught her in the belly. It knocked her chair back hundreds
of meters, past the hovering strangers who hastily shifted
out of her way. The illusory wall vanished. With a cry, the
female flew in, arching her fingers like a cats claws. Scarlet
fire shot from each one, focusing on the male. His chair
bounced up in the air and turned a full loop. Miraculously,
he kept his seat. He tried to regain his original position
near Carialle.
'They are fighting over me. The unmitigated gall of the
creatures!"
At the first sign of mystic lightning, the workers had
judiciously fled to a safe distance from which they avidly
watched the batde. Ignoring Alteiss hissed commands to
keep his head down, Brannel watched the overlords
hungrily, as his eyes had earlier fed on Keff. Maybe tills
time a miracle would occur and one of them would drop
an object of power. In the confusion of batde, it would go
unnoticed until he, Brannel, dove for it and made it his
own. Mere possession of an object of power might not
make one a mage, but he wanted to find out. All his life he
had cherished dreams of learning to fly or control
lightning.
The odds against his success were immense. The mages
were the mages, and the workers were the workers, to live,
die, or serve at the whim of their overlords, never permitted to look above their lowly station. Until today, when
Mage Keff arrived out of the sky, Brannel had never
thought there was a third way of life. The stranger was not
a mage by Ozran standards, since the overlords were fighting over him as if he wasn't there; but he was certainly not
a worker. He must be something in between, a stepping
stone from peasant to power. Brannel knew Keff could
help him rise above his lowborn status and gain a place
among mages, but how to win his favor and his aid? He
had already been of service to Mage Keff. Perhaps he
could render other services, provided that Keff survived
the contest going on above his head.
Brannel had recognized Magess Potria and Mage Asedow by their colors while his peers were too afraid to lift
their heads out of the dust. He'd give his heart and the rest
of his fingers to be able to spin spells as they did. In spite
of the damage that the combatants were doing to one
another, not a tendril of smoke nor a tongue of flame had
even come close to Keff, who was watching the battle rage
calmly and without fear. Brannel admired the strangers
courage. Keff would be a powerful mentor. Together they
would fight the current order, letting worthy ones from the
lowest caste ascend to rule as their intelligence merited.
That is, if Keff survived the war in which he was one of the
prizes.
"A world of wizards, my lady!" Keff chortled gleefully to
Carialle. 'They're doing magic! No wonder you can't find a
power source. There isn't one. This is pure evocation of
power from the astral plane of the galaxy."
The beautiful woman zipped past him in her floating
chair, hands busy between making signs and spells. He
adjusted IT to register all motions and divide them
between language and ritual by repeat usage and context.
He was also picking up on a second spoken language or
dialect. IT had informed him that Brannel had used some
of the terms, and Keff wondered at the linguistic shift from
one species to the other.
"Magical evocation is hardly scientific, Keff," Carialle
reminded him. 'They're getting power from somewhere,
that's for sure. I can even follow some of the buildup a
short way out, but then I lose it in the random emanations."
"It comes from the ether," Keff said, rapt. "It's magic."
"Stop calling it that. We're not playing the game now,"
Carialle said sharply. "We're witnessing sophisticated
manipulation of power, not abracadabra-something-out-of-nothing."
"Look at it logically," Keff said, watching the male lob a
hand-sized ball of flame over his head at his opponent.
"How else would you explain being able to fly without
engines or to appear in midair?"
21
'Telekinesis."
"And how about knitting lightning between your hands?
Or causing smoke and fireballs without fuel? This is the
stuff of legends. Magic."
"Its sophisticated legerdemain, I'll grant that much, but
there's a logical explanation, too."
Keff laughed. 'There is a logical explanation. We've discovered a planet where the laws of magic are the laws of
science."
"Well, there's physics, anyhow," Carialle said. "Our
magimen up there are beginning to fatigue. Their energy