Umber

The damaged World Seed attracts an unwelcome amount of attention. 

An uncomfortable silence lingered in Hadrack’s private rooms at the Three Feathers Inn. Hanen was relieved that Brin had missed the momentary change in Klavicus’ hand. Hadrack, however, had not. But before he could utter a word, Psydney said, It is all right.

That, he replied harshly into her mind, was a demon claw. What have you allowed into my inn?  “Erenil,” he said aloud, “could you and Brin refresh the tea? Perhaps bring a little food for our guests?”

Brin looked confused as Erenil hustled her out of the room, casting a suspicious backward glance at Klavicus on his way out. “Hadrack was not making a request,” the elven ranger said in response to her protest. “Your relationship with him is what it is. Mine is to obey his orders.”

Allowed? Psydney was saying even as they left. I couldn’t stop him if I wanted to. But he is not what you think.

What on Oerth is he? he demanded. She told him. Reacting to Hadrack’s emotional tone, all of Willie’s fur stood on edge. The ranger cast a divining spell. The result was not at all what he expected.

Strange, isn’t it? Klavicus spoke into his mind at its completion. Still, I will leave if you like. But if celestials can fall, can we not rise, even a little?

The one takes a moment of blindness, the other a lifetime of discipline, Psydney interjected. I would like him to stay.

Hadrack frowned at her. “I’ll hold you responsible if Brin or Erenil come to any harm.”

She sighed heavily. “Since when have I needed anyone to tell me my responsibilities?” She spat the word as if it were a curse.

Hanen picked up his lute and began playing quietly, and the subject was abandoned. “And so now we come to the true endgame,” Klavicus said amiably when Erenil and Brin returned. “The little celestial has explained the conflict between she and her friends and that overreaching upstart Ammet. What remains to be understood is what Blastir was playing at.”

Brin had resumed her seat on the ottoman, while Erenil took up a watchful place on the floor nearer to she and Hadrack. She fidgeted awkwardly, avoiding Psydney’s eyes. “He was afraid Ammet would emerge victorious.”

Klavicus snorted. “Blastir was never merely ‘afraid’ of anything in his life. There had to be more to it than that.”

“I didn’t know him,” she said, her expression guarded. “Callie and I came to the keep after he was already gone.”

There’s more, tiny one.

“Leave me alone,” she snapped at him.

Hadrack half-rose from his chair. Don’t be foolish, Klavicus warned him. There’s no need for this to turn unpleasant. To Brin he added, “I don’t need to be in your mind to tell that you’re hiding something. It’s painted all over your face in vibrant colors.”

Hanen surveyed the room with detached interest. Klavicus’ unfortunate revelation of his demonic origins had ratcheted up the tension a notch, but the mention of this Blastir seemed to have a still more dramatic effect. Psydney was watching Brin with a not entirely friendly expression. Hadrack was on his guard against both Klavicus and the psi warrior; somewhat to the bard’s surprise, Erenil had clearly closed ranks with the Heironian ranger and seemed to be studying his sister for hints of psionic activity. Klavicus’ face was taking on that knowledge hunger that didn’t always bode well for bystanders and Brin, huddling on the ottoman and looking weary, appeared on the verge of refusing to speak any more at all. He played his lute very quietly, a tune that Psydney had been fond of when she was a child and he was about Brin’s age.

The ghost of a smile crossed her face. “You’re tired,” she said to Brin.

“Of course I’m tired,” she said resentfully. “I didn’t come here to see any of you. And I certainly didn’t come expecting an inquisition.” She sounded young, and petulant.

So this is one of the saviors of Oerth? Klavicus remarked wryly to Psydney.

Leave her be, Psydney said. She rose and crossed the room, touching the Jasian on the forehead. Even as she withdrew her hand Brin felt her fatigue fall away. “Three times,” she said as she returned to her seat, “we saw a staff and a circle of light. Twice spells Ammet was casting failed. “That was you.” Brin nodded. “It is a possibility, had his castings succeeded, that we would have failed. But only a possibility.”

“Would you tell us,” Hanen asked politely, hoping to anticipate Klavicus, “what it was that you did?”

Hadrack leaned forward and whispered to her. “No, I’m all right,” she said. “And I did make a promise. It was ritual magic,” she said. “We couldn’t have done it without the staff, created by far more experienced hands than ours. Once a year the Black came for us and took us through Manifest to the castle. We spent a full day and night discharging any kind of energy we had into the staff, then cast it back out in a raw form. We were very limited in what we could do – negate an attempt to utilize magic, feed raw energy to others who knew how to make use of it. As we discovered to our dismay the second time, the staff was limited in what it could do as well – without the amphorae to contain the power until it was discharged, the staff was easily damaged.”

“How did you know how much energy you needed?” the bard said.

“We never did. We always fed in pretty much whatever we could. At least this time we had all of the amphorae joined. And Moloch contained within – he seemed to serve as an additional reservoir.” Klavicus chuckled, but held his tongue. “Which was good,” she added, “since we gained energy draining his pentagram.”

“What happens to the excess?” the balor asked.

Hadrack glared at him, but Brin seemed content to answer the question. “This time around we finally understood the flow of energy well enough to direct it. There were five potential targets within the castle: this demon Ammet and the double  – ”

Eidolon, Klavicus prompted.

“- eidolon he’d created, the World-seed itself, Blastir, and the Tree. A root had pierced the castle floor – it was plainly visible now. Obviously, we kept the energy well away from it.”

“What tree?” Psydney asked. Hadrack briefly explained the troubles with the Blasingdell Tree. She muttered to herself angrily, “What else that I’ve done can go awry?”

Brin looked at her quizzically. “Although it was a bad one, I didn’t realize that planting the Tree was a unilateral decision,” she murmured. Hadrack hushed her before she could say anything else.

“I’m not sure it was intended to flourish without Bahamut’s guidance,” he said to Psydney. “Once he was gone, it was too tempting a target for corruption. But it has returned to normal again. Slightly diminished, in fact – its protective reach encompasses Blasingdell, but nothing more. And,” he added to Brin, “the townspeople are returning to normal. Haissha has been so for some time.”

“Corwin will be pleased to hear that,” she said.

Klavicus, far more interested in arcane matters than the state of Blasingdell, asked, “And from whom did you not withhold this energy?”

“Ammet and his dupl – eidolon – were both casting spells – we put a stop to that. We briefly considered attempting to bolster the World-seed but Callie was opposed, both because it was clearly fragile and because we didn’t know who was drawing on its power in turn.”

“A wise decision,” Klavicus said, “as apparently it was Ammet who was feeding on it.” Brin nodded, but said nothing. “And the residue?” he prompted. “Surely that was not the sum of the energy.”

She returned to tracing a runic pattern on the ottoman; when she spoke again her voice was so low that anyone not next to her had to strain to hear. “Blastir looked in a bad way. We decided to bolster him, then dissipate the remainder.”

“Did something go wrong?” Psydney asked. “I saw him reach toward the World-seed, as if he meant to take it in hand.”

“Hah!” Klavicus snorted. “So that’s what his game was.”

“But then,” the psi warrior continued, “he crumbled into dust.”

“Not the first time,” Brin said softly, looking so distressed that Erenil patted her knee sympathetically.

Psydney fixed her with a stare whose intensity made the Jasian flinch. “What do you mean, ‘the first time?’”

Brin sighed unhappily. “It’s hard to explain. But he wasn’t reaching for the World-seed. Not right away. He moved into Zodar. I couldn’t believe he sent it for us,” she said absently. “And he didn’t. It was to contain his soul, if his body failed to survive the strain.”

“Blastir’s construct,” Hadrack said. “But you never mentioned a name before.”

“I don’t think he had one. You know how doggedly he followed us. He even reached the aarakocra, eventually. He used greatswords for ice picks. In effect, he made the pilgrimage to Tikka Ti’Jarra. He emerged from it with a name. And a rudimentary consciousness of his own.”

“Which Blastir would have had to displace to take possession of the shell,” Klavicus mused.

“And he did. From within his new adamantine body, he reached for the seed. And crushed it.” She buried her face in her hands.

“He betrayed you,” Hadrack said gently.

Now there’s a surprise, Psydney spoke into his mind.

He frowned. The children did what they thought was right. And they were used for someone else’s ends. That should sound familiar. The presence in his mind withdrew.

“He put up some kind of field to contain the fragments.”

“Insurance,” Klavicus remarked. “Kill him, destroy the world. He never wanted for raw intelligence. He could have used a little foresight, though. Nothing of that nature can be maintained forever.”

“He strikes me,” Psydney said coldly, “as someone who would take a perverse pleasure in knowing that his death would take the entire world with him.”

“A conclusion you doubtless arrived at after balanced consideration of his virtues and vices, little celestial,” the demon sniped.

“Oh, just stop it, both of you!” Hanen growled. He knelt in front of the young cleric. “What happened next?”

“I – I screamed that I wanted my world – my goddess back. Corwin – ” she turned to Hadrack. “I’m worried about Corwin. He was so angry – he said something about never trusting anyone, ever again. If he meant it – ”

“That remains to be seen,” the ranger said calmly. “And clearly something unexpected happened, or events would not have unfolded as they have.”

“Blastir – he must have manipulated time still further in order to carry out his plan.”

“The missing two years,” Hadrack said. “Between when you should have entered Manifest for the last time and when you actually emerged.”

“Yes. And – someone – knew. She was there. She was waiting.”

“She?”

“I don’t know who – she was elven. She had half a dozen strange-looking creatures with her – Callie said they were élan. And seven yuan-ti assassins. Standing one beside each of us.”

Erenil had an anguished look on his face; Psydney was grim. “What did she look like?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“She was small, even for an elf. Blond-haired, and quite pale.”

“T’lar,” Psydney spat as Erenil stared down at the ground.

“The power-hungry little bitch,” Klavicus muttered, whether in scorn or approbation it was difficult to tell.

“Seven assassins,” Hanen breathed.

“By sheer luck, Vayel and I managed to keep our feet. But everyone else – died.” Her gaze grew distant, and Willie jumped up on her shoulder and touched his nose to her cheek to remind her what was past and what was present. “Achomed came,” she murmured. “He had a dagger in his hand. He told Blastir he couldn’t live in this world – and then committed suicide. Inside Zodar – Blastir seemed to go mad. He directed a furious attack at the woman – T’lar – only to have her laugh at him from quite a different location. She taunted him, saying that she could see the future, that his power was nothing to hers, and that she would have the World-seed for herself.” She trailed off.

“Foolish arrogance,” the balor said. “And utterly incorrect.”

“Was she?” Hanen prompted.

She nodded, closing her eyes and replaying the scene in her mind. “Blastir called out, ‘Tempus fugit!’ Achomed stood up, pulled the dagger out of his abdomen, disappeared. All of our own fallen rose again. Blastir left Zodar, the assassins vanished, the energy we had so carefully directed into the castle returned to the staff.”

“He wound back time,” the bard said in awe.

“And you remembered the first sequence of events?” Erenil said.

“It wouldn’t have done them much good if they hadn’t,” Klavicus rumbled. “He could manipulate time, but he couldn’t make T’lar and her assassins go away.”

Now that she was started, Brin seemed determined to disburden herself of the entire story. “We distributed the energy as before. But we denied Blastir, and we retained the remainder in the staff rather than spreading it out over Oerth. Blastir shouted something about oyster beds, then died.” She looked at Psydney. “As you saw.”

Klavicus shook his head. “Temporal madness. If you play with forces like that, they play with you as well. He overextended himself, and paid for it with his life.”

“We all rearranged ourselves to avoid the assassins’ knives. Corwin, Ammitai and Vayel charged for the spot where T’lar would actually appear; Dryden waited with his bow. Knowing that she would make a grab for the World-seed, Callie and I waited with the staff, prepared to stop her.”

“Armed with the foresight you had,” Klavicus remarked, “that couldn’t have been a difficult conflict.”

“No,” she said. “T’lar was so certain she’d encounter no serious resistance that she expended enormous personal energy in her attempt to seize the World-seed. When it failed, she had nothing left to fall back on; Ammitai, Corwin and Vayel ripped her to shreds. One of the assassins gave Callie an ugly moment, but Zodar and the Black trampled several of them underfoot and the rest – along with the élan – fled once their leader was dead. Dryden desperately wanted to hunt down the yuan-ti. But he couldn’t manage it alone, and no one would help him.”

“A man after my own heart,” Hadrack said ruefully, glancing at Psydney.

Recalling simpler times and near-death from a much younger Heironian ranger’s passion, the psi warrior almost smiled. “Until you learned the better part of valor.”

The ranger looked sheepish. “Sorry about that.”

Her eyes grew bleak again. “I have done worse since,” she muttered.

“I don’t understand,” Hanen said. “Blastir had what he wanted. Why did he undo it?”

“Perhaps, in the end,” Hadrack suggested to Brin, “he didn’t want to betray you.”

“Or, more likely, Achomed tipped the balance,” she replied. “They were always fighting – or, Blastir was always fighting with Achomed – but they were still brothers.”

“Or the cost of his power – so many of your deaths – was too high, or he had scruples about displacing the nascent being in his construct, or found that vengeance on T’lar was worth more than his life. I could go on and on,” Klavicus interrupted. “Any, none, or all in some portion – without him here, it is impossible to say. He was not a simple man.”

“If it was vengeance,” Erenil said glumly, “he almost certainly failed.”

“What do you mean?” Brin asked. “We killed her.”

The elven ranger sighed. “I know my – much as I hate to acknowledge the relationship – sister. She wasn’t going to put herself at risk. Whatever that was you killed, it wasn’t T’lar – at least, not all of her.”

“It might have been,” the cleric said stubbornly, desperately wanting to believe. “Perhaps she thought we were no threat.”

Erenil nodded toward Psydney. “T’lar knew that she was there with her companions. Even if she thought you were easily dealt with…” Brin nodded in capitulation. “Speaking of which,” he said to the psi warrior, “it strikes me that we should be paying a visit to the Enclave.”

“No,” she said flatly.

His temper flared. “How can you just sit there, knowing what she tried to do, and do nothing? I don’t care if she’s my sister – do you?”

“No, I don’t. I haven’t for some time. But I will not accompany you.”

“Then I’ll go alone,” he snapped, tensing as if preparing to leap up and leave immediately.

Hadrack’s hand closed on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I won’t have one of my captains vanishing into the Gamboge on a family vendetta.”

“You realize,” Erenil said coldly, “that T’lar is going to be furious. Now that her plans have been thwarted, she’ll come after them just out of spite.”

“The Dispatch,” Brin scolded, “does not exist to pursue everything that threatens us.”

He turned back to his younger sister. “Psydney, please – ”

“No, Erenil. I have only one duty now, to the exclusion of all others.”

The elven ranger, still tightly coiled, glared from Hadrack to Psydney then back again. Psydney, a distant expression on her face, paid him no further heed. Hadrack shook his head slowly, asking him without words not to throw away years of work with the Dispatch. Intent on his own inner struggle, Erenil jumped when Brin touched him on the shoulder. “Everything in its own time,” she said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from the past ten years, it’s patience in vengeance.” He looked unhappy, but nodded and settled down into a more relaxed posture.

Hanen, meanwhile, was studying Psydney. “I understand. You’re the guardians of the World-seed now, aren’t you? The Pescheour line has failed, and you have assumed their mantle. You did succeed at the test of heroes.”

Instead of pride, he saw something close to tears in her eyes. “We guard the castle,” she corrected him. “Others guard the Seed.”

Fragments of conversation clicked in place in Klavicus’ mind. “Mordenkainen – ” he began.

“Is dead,” she snapped.

“The spheres,” Brin said. “Mordenkainen said they required some other component to complete their function. And he was there. At the castle. Someone we didn’t recognize was with him. And Unus-Aquila.” She thought back. “Mordenkainen called out, ‘I have served the balance all of my life. Now it is time to serve it forever.’ I didn’t know what he meant.”

She looked toward Psydney, whose face seemed set in stone. Come now, Klavicus chided her. They endured much for the moment of restoration. Will you not tell them how it was done?

The psi warrior stared at a point in space. Her voice was wooden. “The other individual was Alain, former guardian of the castle. We sent the ghaele, Sardis, to find him. Alain had told us to restore the Seed to its rightful place, but when we tried it refused to remain fixed. Then Blastir shouted to us, and in the noise and confusion we heard only the word, ‘Five!’ We examined the walls, and with Bane’s arcane sight saw five magical depressions. Clearly somehow these anchored the stone. But we did not understand how, or with what?” She paused for a long interval. “When Mordenkainen arrived, he flew into one of the anchor points – ” her gaze flickered to Brin then away, “speaking the words you heard. Alain took another. Lucius, the redeemed death knight, took a third. Sardis initially occupied the fourth. I understood then what was needed. I was determined to take a position. I left the Champion. But Crusader insisted on taking my place. Then I tried to displace Mordenkainen – but he too refused to go. I would have taken the place of any of them, but they all denied me.” She bowed her head. “I wanted to defy them.”

“Why didn’t you?” Klavicus asked. Hanen sighed, wishing the demon had the decency to keep his mouth shut.

“Choice,” Hadrack said softly.

“No force,” Brin said at virtually the same instant. Psydney glanced up in surprise. “At least that much of you,” the Jasian said, “I understand.”

Psydney nodded. “Mordenkainen called out to finish it. I drove my sword through them all.”

“Why did you do it alone?” Brin gasped.

Psydney looked at her wearily. “It was my responsibility.”

“The responsibility was shared,” the Jasian insisted. “You weren’t alone.”

“We are always alone,” Psydney replied. “It is our inevitable condition.”

“No.” she said heatedly. “You’re wrong.”

It was Klavicus who responded, with more than a little condescension. “A lie you mortals tell yourselves between oblivion and oblivion. You lack the time and the vision to see the truth.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand?” he growled. “Let me tell you – ”

Enough, Psydney’s voice spoke into both of their minds and then, privately to Klavicus, Leave them to their dream.

Very well, he said. But don’t ever interrupt me again.

Demon and celestial looked at one another, and in defiance of all expectation Hanen could see the shared perspective of immortality drawing Psydney closer to the balor and further from the mortals in the room. A single thought filled her mind, so completely that Klavicus could hardly prevent an awareness of it. “Sardis initially occupied the fourth,” he said.

Psydney’s entire attention focused on the balor. “Serge argued it was for the best that he be permitted to join them. That he couldn’t be trusted on Oerth. He took Sardis’ place. They let him come. Why him?” she demanded. “Why him and not me?”

“What did they say to you?” he asked calmly.

“That I was needed where I was.”

“Perhaps that is what they believed. Perhaps they are right.”

She jumped up, turned her back on them and slammed her fist into the wall. “I don’t believe it.”

Klavicus stood behind her. “I can see why the celestials sent you a keeper. They had better send you another. Would you like to know what I see?” When she remained silent he said, “Perhaps they refused you for the reason they gave. Or perhaps because they could see that you merely wanted to die, and that wasn’t good enough. You weren’t entitled to the easy path.”

The psion spun to face him, furious. “And what about Mordenkainen? He didn’t have to live with the mess he created. Why should I?”

“Did you listen to a word she said?” Klavicus snapped, gesturing to Brin. “I realize that he was little more than a thorn in your side. But for my part, I have lost a friend to this transaction. I will be sorry to no longer sit by his fire, drinking brandy and speaking of arcane matters. But I believe he did make reparations, and the guardianship of the World-seed was his final act of atonement. What do you think he was doing on Moloch’s plane? Why do you think he suffered the archdevil’s torment?”

“That could have been a miscalculation,” she said sullenly.

“He walked onto that plane wearing a crown!” the demon roared. “He made himself a target in every way he could think of. His mind was clear, from first to last. He knew what he was doing. More than you did. Perhaps your Serge did as well – we’ll never know.”

“Suffering,” she said hollowly. “Always suffering. Why must it now support the world?”

Klavicus looked thoughtful. “What happened to the bodies?”

“What do you expect?” she snapped. “They writhed in pain. They died.”

“Did they bleed?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she said irritably.

“You have the psionic memory. Recall it to mind.”

Not entirely willingly, she did so. “No,” she said hesitantly. Then with more conviction, “No, I’m sure they didn’t.”

“Then it must have been a metaphysical death,” the balor mused. “A claiming of the soul, not the body.”

Images of Svengali forging new souls in Manifest popped unbidden into Brin’s mind. “A merging,” she said hesitantly. “One from five – creating the soul of the World-seed. A shared consciousness to animate and protect it in the future.”

“Words of wisdom from the tiny death cleric,” Klavicus said dryly. “Such a joining has been known to create gods.” He chuckled. “Your children’s children may be praying to Mordenkainen.” More seriously, he added, “They’d almost certainly lose their individual identities – I hope your rogue was expecting that. Perhaps that’s why they denied you admittance. I wouldn’t care to be fused with that temper of yours. Or perhaps your essential self matters more to you than you realize.” He glanced down at her weapon. “You do use it to shape reality, after all.”

The psi warrior’s anger was dissipating, replaced with a mournful uncertainty, a wave of old, mortal emotion. Hanen rose and went to her. “I know that you wanted Crusader to be free,” he said quietly. “Perhaps she wanted the same for you. Whatever her reasons, whatever their fate, she certainly wouldn’t want you to grieve like this.” He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Come walk in the forest with me before you go, little Sister. I’ll sing you a song. For old times.” She hesitated, then with a faint smile followed him outside without a word to anyone else.

Klavicus surveyed the three remaining mortals. Inclining his head toward Brin, he said, “My appreciation, tiny one, for a most illuminating tale.” He reached into a pocket and tossed her a small sphere. It bobbled into and out of her hand, but Erenil caught it before it hit the ground. “That will return you to Fanjyr, when you are ready to leave.” Then he turned and left the inn.

Erenil stared out the window, looking distracted. “Well,” he said softly, “I think I’m out of sisters.” Hadrack and Brin sat quietly, and Willie hopped down and stretched out at full length near the fire. Once Hanen and Psydney had disappeared into the forest, the elven ranger shifted uncomfortably. “I should tend – leave you two – ”

“Don’t go.” Brin reached out to hold him back.

He grinned at her. “You are a civilized goblin.”

She looked around the room as if memorizing every detail. “I guess these are about to be our old times. It’s going to be much harder – getting around.”

Hadrack looked at her curiously. “About last night – ” he began.

She blushed. “I shouldn’t have tried it. That didn’t go well at all.”

“What didn’t go well?” Erenil asked.

“Forgive me,” Hadrack went on. “All these months I believed you were dead, and then there in my mind was – well, it was a bit of a shock.”

“What was in your mind?” Erenil repeated.

“You weren’t the only one,” she said sheepishly. “After you – uh – ejected me, I bounced around to every other Alpha on Oerth. I know how many of them there were now. Ten, plus the original three. They all had pretty much the same response.”

“What a peculiar mental phenomenon,” Hadrack mused. “I wonder why it persists?”

“Would someone please take a moment to explain the peculiar mental phenomenon to the psion?” the elven ranger said plaintively. Brin told him what had happened when she tried to reach the Three Feathers Inn the night before. Nodding, Erenil focused his attention on Hadrack. “Was it like this?”

Brin thought she smelled something mildly sulphurous, Hadrack a scent of damp forest vegetation. His eyes widened. “Similar. Not exactly, but close.”

Erenil looked at Brin. “Can you try it again, now?”

“But the people I redirected to were not happy at an invader in their minds,” she protested.

“Hadrack knows it’s coming this time. And if he’s still startled, I’ll be your backstop. You won’t accidentally go anywhere else, I promise.”

The Heironian raised a questioning eyebrow. “You’re sure about this…”

“I swear,” Erenil said eagerly. “I know what I’m doing this time.”

“This time?” she asked, but did as he requested. It was as disconcerting for both of them as it had been the night before, but Erenil seemed comfortable with the situation, and served as an amiable bridge. “What a strange sensation,” she said.

“Yes, it’s – ” Hadrack struggled for words.

“It’s always harder being the recipient at first,” Erenil said. “You need to learn to externalize. Try to project her image into the room.” Then, after a moment, “Not both of you at once. Stop it, Brin. You’re making me nauseous.”

“Sorry.”

“Now, Brin, you try to visualize yourself where Hadrack put you, and look back at him.”

“Hey,” she protested, “you gave me a right hand.”

“Wishful thinking,” Hadrack said.

“I told you I’ll take care of it.” She tried to concentrate.

“That is not your hand,” he spluttered.

“Well, since I had to go to all the bother of having it off, it’s a little boring just to put the original one back.”

“You’re not actually thinking about – ”

“Will the two of you concentrate?” the psion pleaded as the images collapsed like water on wet paint. It was a challenging exercise, and Erenil had them stop several times while he recovered from what he described as an ‘inner eye imbalance,’ but before too long they improved. “Stop moving your lips,” he said to Hadrack. “People will think you’re a crazy old man hearing voices in your head.”

“He is hearing voices in his head,” the Jasian pointed out.

“Perhaps what distinguishes a sane man from an insane one,” Hadrack said wryly, “is not drawing attention to the fact.”

The three of them started laughing. Brin lost her concentration completely and returned to her own mind. “I should go,” she said wistfully. “I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving. If they find me missing, they’ll probably worry.”

“You will try again, won’t you?” Hadrack asked. “I didn’t care for two years of silence.”

“And no doubt,” she joked, “the king likes to keep tabs on us.” The ranger looked a little hurt. Willie jumped onto her shoulder and chittered at her indignantly. She kissed Hadrack’s cheek in apology and said soberly, “I wouldn’t like the silence either.”

“Take care, little goblin,” Erenil said.

“Out there in the wide multiverse,” Hadrack added.

She smiled, crushed Klavicus’ sphere, and teleported away.