Umber

To gain insight into the mysteries of the severed Oerth, Klavicus plays a dangerous game.

Klavicus Starton the Third hummed through the city of Irongate in the form of a tiny fly until he reached the vicinity of the Lord High Mayor’s compound. Then, out of sight of prying eyes, he transformed into a well-dressed human of distinguished and imposing late middle age, strode purposefully to the gates and announced his arrival. The guard on duty scanned the sheet of paper tacked to a nearby wall, then eyed him haughtily. “Is His Honor expecting you?”

“Of course not,” Klavicus snapped. “That’s what you’re here for – to announce unexpected visitors.”

“No, sir,” the guard replied in a tone belying the apparent respectfulness of his words, “it is not.”

The balor smiled pleasantly. “It is now.”

“The Lord High Mayor is an exceedingly busy man,” the guard said stiffly. “I will be pleased to dispatch a messenger, who will convey the news of your – arrival – at a convenient moment. If you would like to tell me where you plan to be staying, someone will deliver His Honor’s response. In a few hours, or perhaps tomorrow.”

Klavicus refused to be ruffled. “I plan to be staying here.”

The guard was clearly growing annoyed. “Yes, that may very well be, but until His Honor is aware of your presence, that is quite impossible. In the meantime, may I recommend the Golden Lion? It is a fine, respectable establishment.”

Klavicus half-turned to gaze out toward the docks, apparently ignoring the man. “Oh look, an elderly fisherman. Trying to catch his supper, no doubt.” He gave the guard a meaningful glance. “I wonder if he’d like a worm the likes of which has never been seen before.” The guard blanched, but held his ground. “I will find a way to make you useful,” he growled, “one way or another. Your choice.”

With the smallest of gestures, he awakened a flicker of fear in the gate guard. The man nervously called for a messenger, whose trot toward the mayoral mansion increased to a run after the guard made some vague threat. A few minutes later, a white-haired, much-wrinkled old man dressed in expensive clothes emerged, waving impatiently for the gate to be opened. Klavicus smiled smugly at the guard as he passed.

“Dr. Starton,” the elderly servant said as he reached him. “This is a pleasure. His Honor will be greatly pleased to see you.” He snapped his fingers at the messenger beside him, pointing to the bag Klavicus carried. “Your usual rooms?”

“That would be fine,” the balor said. “It’s good to see you’re still balancing on this old ball Oerth, Switten.”

“Perhaps with a little less agility than in days past, sir,” the servant replied, “but grateful for the vitality I have left to me. You are, as always, if I may say so sir,” he added admiringly, “the soul of vitality itself.”

The pair chatted amiably as they made their way to a well-appointed set of guest quarters; by the time they reached it another messenger was waiting to inform Dr. Starton that the Lord High Mayor was most gratified that he had chosen to honor him with his presence, and he most earnestly hoped to see him at dinner this evening. In the meantime the hospitality of the manor was as ever at his disposal. Switten bowed formally. “I’ll see to it that there are no further regrettable breaches in protocol as inconvenienced you at the front gate, sir.” Then he took his leave.

Klavicus spent some time changing clothes and refreshing himself. Before he left his room, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. “You know,” he said to the human face looking back at him, “I think I prefer being a fly.”

By the time he emerged, it was obvious that Switten had been busy. Those servants and guards who couldn’t contrive to avoid him altogether bowed respectfully with eyes averted, fervently hoping he wouldn’t speak to them. He prowled the upper levels of the house, familiarizing himself anew with its layout, then ambled down to the cellars. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was looking for, but suspected he’d found it when, past the hams and cheese wheels, kegs of beer and racks of wine and fine liqueurs, he spotted a lone guard standing attentively before a barred passageway. To Klavicus’ amusement, the guard at the sturdy, locked gate watched his approach nervously, saying in an earnest tone as he drew near, “My deepest apologies, Dr. Starton, but I’m afraid no one is allowed beyond this gate except in His Resolute Honor’s personal presence. His Honor explicitly enjoined me to make no exceptions, and, well – ” his professional façade cracked just a little, “it’s not my place to question his decisions, sir.”

Apparently mollified by the man’s politeness, Klavicus patted him on the shoulder. “Of course not, my good man. I’m sure I can find some other amusement.” He could smell the guard’s relief as he turned, walked back the way he had come, and spent the hours before dinner closeted in Cobb Darg’s private study, perusing several books on the Inner Planes. Switten appeared a little before seven to escort him to the mayor’s private dining room, where Darg moved smoothly about, checking bottles and decanters, peering under serving tray lids and issuing a few final orders before dismissing the servants from the room, with orders not to return under any circumstances until summoned.

The Lord High Mayor gestured toward the table. “I thought we’d dine undisturbed tonight. It’s good to see you, Klavicus. It’s been too long.”

“Travel isn’t what it used to be,” the balor remarked. Scrutinizing a row of wines, he selected a bottle and uncorked it while Cobb Darg ladled bouillabaisse into two stoneware bowls. “But I’m a little disappointed that I’ve been dropped from your visitors’ list.”

“I didn’t know you had been,” the mayor replied. “The gods preserve us from servants who presume to think. The steward must have labored under the mistaken impression that a visitor who hadn’t been by for twenty years was a visitor no longer.”

“That never would have happened during Switten’s tenure.”

“No,” Darg sighed, “but Switten was a man in a thousand. I tried to get him to retire when he turned seventy, take life easy for a while, but he’d have none of it. The best I could do was ‘promote’ him to my personal secretary and valet. I don’t know how much longer he’ll last. I’ll miss him when he’s gone. But, all things must pass.”

“Most things, anyway,” Klavicus smirked. The mayor raised his glass, and the two laughed together.

By the way, you frightened my gate guard half to death,” Darg remonstrated. “Why didn’t you just buzz on in?”

Klavicus shrugged. “It was a long trip. I was in the mood for some entertainment.”

The mayor shook his head. “He’s an officious boor, but he’s good with his halberd. I would hate to have seen him dangling from some fisherman’s hook. Colorful threat, by the way.” The gaze he settled on the balor did not look entirely amused.

“I didn’t realize you’d hear the story in quite that much detail.” The demon tried, with only marginal success, to look innocent. “I almost certainly wouldn’t have actually done it.” He hastily changed the subject, and they spent the remainder of a leisurely meal discussing the strange state of the world and the political situation around Irongate. At its conclusion, they retired to the library, leaving the cleaning up to a collection of bewildered servants who wondered how two not overly young men could possibly have consumed that quantity of food.

“Your hospitality hasn’t dimmed by an ember,” Klavicus commented as he settled into a burgundy leather chair with a glass of port. “That was an excellent meal.”

“Always high praise coming from someone as well-traveled as yourself,” the mayor remarked.

“That doesn’t mean as much as it used to,” the balor sighed with nostalgia, “which makes destinations such as this all the more treasured.”

Cobb Darg narrowly avoided choking on his brandy. “I guessed this wasn’t just a social call. Now I’m certain of it.”

Klavicus folded his lips into a crooked smile. “Guilty as charged. I confess I have a certain renewed interest in those unique portals buried deep beneath us here.”

“They stopped working,” Darg said cautiously. “As you who are accustomed to more spontaneous modes of travel would be aware.”

“They stopped going where they used to go,” the demon corrected. “I’ve heard some interesting rumors about where they lead now.”

“What use could you possibly have for them?”

Klavicus shrugged. “What use do you have for them?”

“In truth,” the mayor sighed, “less than you might perhaps think. They’re dangerous.”

“You don’t expect me to believe that you’ve sent no one through?”

“Oh, I’ve sent them through,” he admitted. “I don’t always get them back, though. And the last time, I admit I was rather reluctant. I stumbled upon a competent band of adventurers willing and eager to be turned on these damned slavers. I would have hated to lose them.”

“Then why did you let them risk it?” Klavicus chided. “Surely if you hadn’t told them about the portals, they wouldn’t even have known they existed.”

“You remember Blastir?” Cobb Darg asked. At the mention of the ninja’s name, the demon’s eyes glittered with interest. “He as much as ordered me to give them the option. Said they were going to prove more useful than I could possibly imagine.”

“What is that man up to?” the balor muttered. “Is he sending hand-picked attack dogs to every major ruler in the Flaeness?”

The mayor looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Indirectly, Blastir is why I’ve come. Clement of Dunthrane has a very peculiar detachment of child-knights who would freeze your blood sooner than his strongest paladins.”

Cobb Darg shuddered at the mention of paladins. “I find that hard to believe.”

Klavicus smiled. “Well, not for the same reasons, perhaps. But they’ve been charging around the north with artifacts the like of which I haven’t seen in the hands of mortals since – well, since that motley group passed through on their way to dispatch the Witch-King and, inadvertently, end my long exile.”

“Some exile,” Darg snorted. “You were hardly ever there.”

“But at least after he died, my conscience was clear when I left.”

He and the mayor stared at one another, and Darg began laughing until tears came to his eyes. “Forgive me,” the old man spluttered as he recovered. “You were saying?”

“Yes,” the balor said with only a hint of impatience, “I was saying that these tiny knights have apparently been raised – from infancy, some of them – specifically by Blastir for some special purpose directly relevant to the world situation.”

“And you abhor a knowledge vacuum, particularly where power is involved.” Cobb Darg leaned back in his chair and sipped his drink. “But I don’t see how that – ” he glanced down toward the floor and beyond, “can help.”

“I need new – information sources. Since it’s impossible to be anywhere in particular at a moment’s notice anymore, I need something that is everywhere at once, all of the time.”

“I don’t know if that’s wise,” the old man replied. “The goals of these – entities – are inscrutable, but goals they most certainly possess. They anoint those for which they have purpose. And if they have no purpose for you – ” he leaned forward and with a sudden exhalation extinguished one of the candles before him.

Klavicus relit the candle with a glance. “Now I’m intrigued,” he said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had an interesting challenge.”

“Given the state of the world, I would think you could find challenges in abundance,” the mayor countered.

“Petty violence,” the demon scoffed. “I haven’t found that anything but a tedious nuisance for centuries. But to bargain with an elemental chorus – now there’s a chance to exercise one’s intellect.”

“It’s also been centuries since you’ve confronted anything that could actually destroy you,” Darg warned. “Tread carefully, old friend.” He sighed. “When would you like to attempt it?”

“There’s no time like the present,” Klavicus suggested.

“I was afraid you were going to say that. Let me find my captain.” When the balor raised a quizzical eyebrow he added, “I want to dismiss the guard I have there now. Should something – the gods forbid – go awry, I can trust this man’s discretion.”

The three of them threaded their way through the cellars back to the heavy gate. Cobb Darg’s captain relieved the present guard and stood at stiff attention outside as the mayor and the apparently human scholar went inside.

“I don’t suppose I can talk you out of this?” Cobb Darg asked.

Klavicus shook his head. “I’d rather be dead than continue to live in this kind of ignorance. I’m too old to enjoy or even suffer surprises.”

The Lord High Mayor of Irongate extended his hand. “I sincerely hope you’ll be able to join me for a nightcap.”

The balor clasped it briefly. “As do I.”

The mayor left the chamber, pausing at the gate before departing the cellars altogether. “Do not enter, no matter what you hear,” he instructed his captain.

“But if the doctor should require assistance – ” the man protested.

Cobb Darg managed to suppress the smile that rose to his lips at the sight of the captain’s unwavering sincerity. “Believe me,” he intoned with as much mayoral authority as he could muster, “and I mean no slight to your skill – but if Dr. Starton can’t handle the situation, neither can you.”

Alone now, Klavicus shifted back to his demonic form. No point in beginning by insulting them with an illusory shape. Meditating for a few moments to create a razor-sharp emptiness in his mind, he took a deep breath and stepped through a gate. Floating apparently disembodied, he found himself, as he recorded later,

In a transparent sphere surrounded by an octahedron surrounded by a polyhedron of unknown immensity. This structure is bisected by nine planes stretching out into the trackless void…

A gravelly voice rumbled in his mind: An immortal.

Then a burbling like water: It is not invited.

And on a breath of air: It is not wanted.

A crackling heat surrounding him: Shall we burn it?

Crush it?

Drown it?

Suffocate it?

Disembodied perhaps, but still capable of pain. For one brief, disconcerting moment, the balor felt all of these dismal fates rushing toward him simultaneously, but he tightened the grip on his mind and refused to let even a speck of panic escape. Then the pressure that threatened to smash him to the size of a pebble dissipated and the rumbling voice said, What does it want?

The heat withdrew to a distance, if not entirely comfortable, at least not immediately searing. So much for invulnerability to fire, he thought to himself, and was sure that he heard a hissing, spitting laugh. What will it give us? the hissing voice asked.

He permitted himself a slight smile. He had hoped they’d be in a bargaining mood and, like seemingly every other entity in the multiverse, the elementals possessed a certain pride. He formed in his mind the image of an aging human, now sequestered in a remote corner of the Gamboge Forest.

What is this to us? the voices spoke in a chorus.

He transmitted a series of images, of bear and raven, wolverine and weasel, owl, hawk, bat and snake, dog and cat.

Volatiles, the fire spit.

Accidental playthings of mortal children, the air whispered.

What are they to us? grumbled the earth.

Eternal, yes, Klavicus suggested, but not immortal. Who will sing of your chosen ones? Might even the eternals wish their deeds to be remembered within the flow of time?

What do the mortals matter to us? they sang in unison.

Forgive my presumption, Eternal Ones, he replied humbly. Of course it will not matter if the wildlings have credit for all that is worked upon Oerth in this time.

There was a sudden, almost deafening, silence. Finally the voice of the air whispered again, His songs are pleasing? Klavicus gave silent assent.

When the time comes, you will bring him to a place of hearing, the water bubbled. The demon nodded.

And then he will tell, the earth growled.

It does not suit us to be revealed now, the fire crackled.

But later… the water murmured.

Yes, the ground rumbled beneath him.

Then they spoke all at once, voices tumbling over one another. It will suffice.

We will come to you as we see fit.

You will come to us as we instruct.

Or the agreement is nullified.

Klavicus nodded his agreement. When the time has come, he said, I will deliver the human to you.