A Crown Imperilled

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Miranda jumped into the water.

Nakor was a step behind, as both leapt into the waist-deep surf. The two elves followed.

It had taken a little bribery beyond the normal bullying from the garrison captain in Sarth to get Captain Sully to sail to Sorcerer’s Isle. Even then, he had refused to come ashore, insisting they wade in from as close as he was willing to get and Miranda had grudgingly agreed, too pleased to have finally reached Sorcerer’s Isle to be concerned by the discomfort. Arkan and Calis were elven-kind, so their natural reticence masked whatever they might be feeing at this point.

‘Now we hike,’ Miranda said briskly.

As they trudged up the long pathway from the beach to the rise that marked the end of sand and beginning of meadow, they were not unobserved.

In the distant tower of the Black Castle, a lookout had spied their boat approaching and had already alerted those whose job it was to guard the island from interlopers.

As they approached the crest of the hill, they saw figures waiting for them.

A young magician named Theodor stood flanked by Amirantha and Sandreena, who had volunteered to accompany the youngster as much out of boredom as any fear of assault on the island. All three now stood in astonishment and confusion seeing the group, one of whom they were sure was dead, climb the hillside.

Miranda waved a greeting, her face split in as broad a grin as anyone had ever seen, such was her joy to be home. Then suddenly Amirantha cried, ‘Demons!’

Sandreena put her shield up and drew back to attack Miranda while Amirantha began a spell of banishment. Theodor stood rooted, uncertain of what was happening.

Calis and Arkan were both caught unprepared. Arkan began to unlimber his bow, but Calis put out a retraining hand before the moredhel chieftain could nock and fire.

Nakor felt the banishment magic gather and knew that within a moment he and Miranda would find themselves back in the Fifth World; in the second circle if they were lucky, and if they were not, in the mad lands or into the void. He reached into his bag and drew back, throwing as hard as he could.

An orange struck Amirantha dead in the centre of his forehead, breaking his concentration and interrupting the spell.

Sandreena had been fighting demons for years, so what she didn’t expect was one to step away from her attack instead of attacking back. Miranda deftly stepped to one side and let the heavily armoured Sergeant Knight-Adamant of the Order of the Shield of the Weak overbalance when she met no resistance. Miranda couldn’t resist sticking out her foot, so that Sandreena tumbled down the path.

Amirantha shook off his blurry vision to find Nakor holding out his hand, and saying, ‘Please don’t do that until we’ve talked.’ Unable to think of anything better to do, Amirantha reached up and let the little man help him to his feet.

Sandreena finally stopped rolling, came to her feet in a crouch and was about to attack, but found Miranda patiently waiting at the top of the path, holding out one hand, palm outward. ‘Don’t!’ was all she said.

Sandreena hesitated and Nakor laughed. ‘You must be Sandreena and Amirantha. I am Nakor. I died before we met.’ The absurdity of that statement made him laugh. ‘We have a lot to talk about, but let’s wait until we get back to the villa. I’m sure Pug and Magnus will want to hear this as well.’

Arkan and Calis exchanged looks, revealing in subtle elven fashion that they found the entire exchange vaguely amusing.

Sandreena slowly shook her head. ‘Why not?’ She trudged up the path and said, ‘We know you’re not who you seem to be. Who are you?’

‘Well,’ said Nakor in obvious delight. ‘I am Nakor. This is Miranda. The dark-haired fellow is Arkan, and the fair-haired one is Calis.’ He pointed to the elves. ‘They’re who they appear to be.’ He pointed to Miranda and then himself. ‘We sort of are who we seem to be, but that’s not the full story, which is better told over wine.’

He turned and started walking down the long path to the villa below. Sandreena gave Miranda a wide berth and followed, obviously very unhappy at being made to look foolish. Amirantha fell in beside Miranda and looked at the dead woman who now reeked of demon-magic, absently tossing the orange in the air. ‘I suspect wine will help,’ the warlock said to Miranda, ‘but I’m not certain it’ll help me understand.’

She looked at him and simply said, ‘Kalkin’, as if that explained everything.

Amirantha said, ‘Oh,’ then a moment later said, ‘Oh! Yes, we do have much to speak of.’

Sandreena tried hard not to turn to look at what she knew to be two demons calmly walking into the heart of the Conclave of Shadows.

Sitting in the kitchen, Sandreena seemed unable to grasp what she had just heard. ‘So, somehow … Kalkin, Ban-ath, the god of thieves and liars … put your minds into the body of demons? In the demon realm?’

Miranda seemed ready to throttle the holy knight, but she restrained herself. Nakor said, ‘No, those aren’t ‘our minds,’ but our memories. I do not know what happened to Nakor’s mind when he died on Omadrabar. Maybe mind and soul are the same thing? Maybe he went to Lims-Kragma’s hall and started anew on the Wheel? Maybe he didn’t. He was on the Dasati world, so maybe he’s now reborn a Dasati? I have no idea. But what I do have is all of Nakor’s memories.’ He shrugged. ‘I have the memories of Belog as well. I was Belog first. But the more I live like Nakor, the more like him I feel. Mostly I think of myself as Nakor now.’

‘And you?’ Sandreena asked of Miranda.

Looking off into space, she replied, ‘The same.’ She had been crushed to discover that Pug and Magnus were somewhere on the other side of the world investigating the Pantathians, and not for the first time, but with the most vehemence, she cursed not having Miranda’s powers. In her mind she could remember how it worked. The true Miranda would have been able to sense where they were and just go there.

Amirantha repeated an earlier observation. ‘And we so far have no idea why Ban-ath would do such a thing.’

Nakor shrugged, his hands held out palms up in perplexity. ‘The last time was when he put the memories of Macros the Black into a dying Dasati who became important in rescuing that race from a horrible end. Maybe it’s something like that. I’m not sure Macros knew that world had been taken over by a rogue Dreadlord who subverted the entire race.’

Sandreena said, ‘I remember hearing the details from Pug, or at least those he was willing to share.’ She glanced at Miranda who nodded. ‘What I never understood is how one Dreadlord could do that.’

‘We may never know,’ answered Miranda. ‘I don’t know how often you talked about that after I … well, after Miranda was killed.’ She rolled her shoulders then chuckled ruefully. ‘I can still feel that demon’s jaws tearing into my neck.’

Sandreena stood up. ‘If you will excuse me.’ She tried to sound apologetic and failed. ‘I just need some time to think …’

Amirantha waited for a moment, then said, ‘I’ll go speak to her.’

He followed Sandreena out of the kitchen and down the path that led to the quest quarters. ‘Are you unwell?’

She rolled her eyes in a way that told him she considered that as stupid a question as could be. ‘This goes against every instinct I have, Amirantha. I’m sitting at a kitchen table chatting with demons. All I want to do is break their skulls with my mace and send them back to the Fifth Hell!’

‘It’s an unusual situation for you, I know,’ he said. ‘My experiences are different-’

She interrupted him. ‘Of course they’re different! You summoned them to play your confidence game on gullible villagers and nobles alike. You kept them around for pets. You had one as a lover!’

‘I thought we agreed never to discuss Dalthea again?’

‘You agreed,’ she nearly spat. Amirantha had summoned a succubus as a lover when he grew tired of watching those he cared for die, and unfortunately Sandreena and he had become intimate at a time when he was still under the impression it was a passing thing. It was only after she found him in bed with the demon and tried to murder them both that he understood she had been a great deal more serious about the affair than he. It had taken them years to get past that, and from her current attitude, it appeared she wasn’t as far past it as he had thought.

‘Look, can we just put that aside until we are in a place less fraught with danger? I don’t think you fully grasp the scope of this. Yes, it’s startling to see Nakor and Miranda in front of us, and her looking as we last saw her moments before she died.’ Neither had met Nakor before, but hearing his story combined with Miranda had given weight to both stories. ‘But think of this: a god has manipulated things beyond recognition, towards an end only he knows, but it must be vital, otherwise why bother?’

‘The Trickster?’ she asked. ‘Because he’s bored?’

‘Maybe, but unlikely. No, this is something critical.’ He looked out into the distance. ‘Things are moving out there,’ he said. ‘We’ve seen too many terrors and wonders in our days not to understand that this is no longer a simple matter of an errant demon blundering into our world to be banished again; these two are here for a reason and we must discover it.’ Then he added, ‘And I feel we must discover it soon.’

‘I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you this serious about anything.’

Amirantha looked away into the distance. ‘There are many things I would change if I could, Sandreena. How I treated you is one. But since encountering Kaspar and having him bring Brandos and me here … my perspective on many things has changed. I’ve never spoken of this to anyway, not even Brandos, and you know he’s like a son to me.’ She nodded, saying nothing. ‘As a boy I watched my people destroyed in a mad ruler’s war against another petty tyrant. What was left of the Saltumbria was my mother, myself and two crazy brothers, both of whom seemed to spend a large part of their creative energies trying to kill me. We were spared only because we had been driven away by our people because they thought our mother was a witch and mad. Both were true, but that’s beside the point. Had we been welcomed within that community we would have perished with the rest of our tribe. Here I found something larger than myself to believe in.’ He looked at her. ‘You understand that. You would give your life for your order and your goddess.’

She said, ‘If need be, yes, but it wouldn’t be my first choice.’

‘Nor mine, and I’m not even sure if it came to that I could be that self-sacrificing, but I know I never cared about doing the right thing before I came here. Oh, I think I did the right thing in caring for Brandos.’ He smiled in remembrance. ‘You should have seen him as a boy. He was tough and defiant and could fight like a cornered sewer rat, but there was something in him I liked.’

‘So you took him in.’ Sandreena said. ‘Is he coming back?’

‘He and Samantha are keeping to themselves in the tor I built outside Maharta. I think he’s worried that if I find out he’s ill I’ll worry too much.’

‘He’s ill?’

‘Just an old man’s cough, but that’s the thing, isn’t it? I raised him from a boy, and now he looks old enough to be my father.’ He held out his hands and turned them over, as if trying to see something. ‘They don’t look any different than a hundred years ago, Sandreena. I have no grey hair. No wrinkles, and until I met Pug, Marcus, and Miranda, I’d never met another human being who didn’t age. There is something here to fight for, even if I’m not quite willing to die for it.’

She nodded, not sure where he was going.

‘The point,’ he said as if reading her mind, ‘is that those two came back from the dead for a reason, and it’s that reason we should be thinking about, not that they are here.’

‘I think I understand. It’s just … I’ve been fighting demons since I took up the shield, and to sit and chat with two of them … it takes getting use to.’

‘Let’s go back and see if we can begin to uncover the reason for this strange turn of events and, please, try not to kill either one before we’re done?’

She gave him a tiny smile. ‘I’ll try. No promises, but I’ll try.’

He chuckled.

‘What about those elves?’ she asked as they walked back toward the house.

‘What about them?’

‘Calis I like, but that other one, Arkan …’

Amirantha nodded. ‘There’s something different about him, true, but I can’t put my finger on it. But then, before I came here the only elves I had met were in Novindus, and down there they are not all that different from you and me.’

Sandreena said, ‘I’ve seen a few up here, and, well … he’s just different.’

Amirantha remained silent and they returned to the kitchen.

Nakor and Miranda looked as the two of them entered. Behind them, students and magicians who worked for the Conclave began preparing the evening meal.

‘It’s changed, the Villa,’ said Miranda.

Amirantha nodded. ‘It was utterly destroyed when you-’

‘Died,’ supplied Miranda. ‘I remember. The dying I mean.’

‘Pug abandoned the Villa,’ said Sandreena. ‘He took your death, and Caleb’s, and Marie’s very hard.’

Amirantha said, ‘He just … left, for a while. Travelled I guess. We few who remained lingered at the black castle. The rest scattered.’

‘For a while I think he feared another such attack,’ said Sandreena. ‘It was a dreary few years, but then one day, Pug seemed to have come to some sort of closure and he decided it was time to revive the Villa and bring back the students and teachers. He decided to change things as he went, making some improvements.’

Miranda looked thoughtful. At last she said, ‘I don’t know how long we’ll be here. Perhaps it’s best we not dwell on such things as the past.’

Sandreena looked at her quizzically.

Miranda said, ‘We know we were … resurrected for a purpose.’

Nakor said, ‘And it is most certainly a critical one.’

‘But we do not know what that purpose is.’ She opened her hands. ‘I was hoping once I reached the island, met Pug … something would be revealed, our purpose made clear.’ She was silent for a moment, then said, ‘So we wait until Pug returns. I wish I could go to him.’

‘Why not?’ asked Amirantha, rubbing his forehead absently.

‘I have Miranda’s memories, but not her abilities. I have demon “tricks” as Nakor calls them.’

‘How did you throw that fireball in Ylith?’ he asked. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you.’

‘It wasn’t a fireball,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘I summoned a lesser fire demon — basically an elemental — and threw it at the Keshians. He roamed around randomly until enough of him dissipated that he couldn’t maintain cohesion and he returned to the demon realm.’

Nakor laughed aloud. ‘That’s a wonderful trick.’

Sandreena looked at Amirantha rubbing his forehead and said, ‘What is wrong with you?’

Amirantha realized what he was doing and said, ‘Sorry, it’s just a little tender where he smacked me with that orange.’

Miranda’s eyes narrowed. ‘Where did you get that orange, anyway?’

Nakor shrugged. ‘I just reached into the bag and there it was.’

‘But that “there” is a minor rift into that warehouse.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘And?’

‘You can’t do that trick.’

His face was alight with realization. ‘I just did it! I didn’t think about it, or try to do it, I just did it!’

He held up his right hand, his short sleeve falling to his elbow and moved his hand. Suddenly with a snap, a card appeared in it. He was almost giddy with delight as he made cards appear and started tossing them around the kitchen. Some of the students preparing the evening meal stopped to watch.

‘I just did it!’ he shouted, jumping up from his chair to do a little dance in a circle. ‘I just did it!’

Miranda smiled. She asked, ‘Once more? You just did it?’

‘I didn’t think. I just reached in and grabbed an orange!’ His glee was infections. Sandreena and Amirantha found themselves smiling broadly at his happiness.

Miranda closed her eyes for a second, and then said, ‘If you can, I can!’

Without warning she threw out her hand and a column of flames sprang from her palm. With a flick of her wrist and a back and forth motion, she made it vanish. She laughed girlishly. ‘Don’t think! Just do it!’

She stood up and looked at Nakor with deep appreciation. ‘Thank you.’ Then, suddenly, she vanished.

‘What?’ asked Sandreena.

‘Where did she go?’ asked Amirantha.

Nakor laughed out loud. ‘She went to find Pug,’ he said. ‘She didn’t think about it. She just did it!’ He continued his dance in a circle, and the two demon experts exchanged glances. They had never seen, nor could they imagine, a demon dancing for sheer joy.

Pug and Magnus were sitting quietly on cushions at a low table, drinking tea. ‘One thing that constantly amazes me,’ said Magnus. ‘There’s an illusion of scale that’s fluid. At moments I feel as if I’m standing outside a massive barrier, yet at others I feel almost god-like looking down on the most delicate and finely crafted miniatures crafted by a master toymaker.’

Pug nodded. ‘Since I returned for Kelewan and assumed the mantle of the Black Sorcerer from your grandfather, I have constantly been astonished at the resilience of the human mind. It interprets what it doesn’t understand. What we’re studying is a metaphor for some sort of complex energy …’ He shook his head. ‘This is the sort of thing that used to utterly delight Nakor.’ He smiled in remembrance. ‘I never met a man who so loved mysteries.’

Magnus nodded. ‘Have you come to any conclusions about this matrix?’

‘I suspect it’s a trap of some sort.’

‘If so, it’s very subtle.’

‘Those are the most dangerous,’ said his father.

‘Why did it suddenly manifest here? Why now? And why not at the other Sven-ga’ri location in the Peaks of the Quor?’

Pug chuckled. ‘Impatience?’

‘No, just frustration, I guess.’ Magnus fixed his father with a pale blue eye and said, ‘The hardest part here is not knowing if we’re making progress or wasting time.’

‘Something in there is familiar,’ said Pug. ‘Something that echoes …’ He stopped. ‘I find myself when we’re in there thinking of Tomas.’

Magnus was silent for a moment, then said, ‘Valheru?’

‘Perhaps. The Sun Elves told us they were placed to protect the Quor by the Dragon Lords. These Pantathians were created by a Dragon Lord, perhaps to also protect the Sven-ga’ri.’

Pug fell silent, pressing the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger.

‘Are you all right?’ asked his son.

‘Just tired. This is exciting work, but I’m not sure how much it bears on all the other troubles we’re facing. I’m trying not to let it become a distraction from our other problems.’

‘You’re doing all you can. Have you identified those who betrayed us in the Conclave?’

‘A few of those who are primarily allied with Keshian factions in the Academy,’ said Pug. He stretched and suppressed the urge to yawn. ‘No one critical appears to have been involved in any acts of betrayal.’

Magnus thought about this, then said, ‘Many of our sources have been cut off. Jim Dasher’s organization in the Isles is still somewhat effective, though his agents in Kesh are non-existent. Roldem’s intelligence is minimal. Kesh’s is non-existent.’

‘Only magic could have turned that many loyal agents disloyal.’

‘It had to be subtle,’ agreed Magnus. ‘And it had to be practised over a long time.’

Pug chuckled as he stood up. ‘The only time we’ve ever faced this sort of subtle, long term planning, the Pantathians were behind it.’

‘The Great Uprising,’ said Magnus. ‘You’ve spoken of it many times.’

‘Disguising a Serpent Priest as a dark elf … that alone is a prodigious feat. Moredhel shamans are like elven spellweavers; they’re in touch with basic elements of magic and can sense disruption. Moreover, the false Murmandamus had a Pantathian Serpent Priest as a servant, which would instantly arouse suspicion, yet he not only withstood scrutiny by the clans of the north, he rallied them and led them against the Kingdom.’

Magnus studied his father. ‘What are you thinking?’

‘I’m thinking that in all our dealings with the Pantathians directly, little about them is subtle.’ He held up the porcelain cup he was drinking from. ‘This is subtle, finely made by a craftsman in Kesh. Part of the trade bounty these people have with their neighbours to the north. This is unexpected. These Pantathians might not be capable of fashioning such a fine cup, but they appreciate its beauty beyond utility, because otherwise we’d be drinking out of a stone or metal cup.

‘They appreciate beauty,’ he said waving his hand around the room, filled with richly embroidered cushions and tapestries. ‘Craftsmanship,’ he added, putting his hand on the exquisite lacquered table.

‘But these fine beings have no magic,’ said Magnus.

‘Yes, they have no magic,’ his father echoed. ‘The Shangri, on the other hand are prodigious artificers of magic, yet they are nearly mindless and do only what they are instructed to do. They need constant supervision.’

‘And the Serpent Priests are somewhere in the middle,’ added Magnus.

‘Which leaves us with a final question,’ said Pug. ‘Who is telling the Shangri what to do and the Serpent Priests when to do it?’

‘And you suspect the answer has something to do with that familiar feeling you experience with the matrix, that echo of magic that reminds you of Tomas?’

‘Yes, somehow the Valheru are still involved in all this.’

Magnus was also silent for a while. Then he said, ‘We need more information.’

‘Obviously,’ said Pug with a fatherly smile. ‘So many times I thought we were passed this or that problem, only to have it reassert itself in a different form. There is some hidden entity behind all of this, perhaps going back as far as the creation of the Lifestone by the Valheru.’

‘What?’

Pug laughed. ‘If I knew, it wouldn’t be a mystery.’

‘You’re tired,’ said Magnus. ‘Perhaps we should cease examining the matrix until tomorrow?’

‘The sun just set, we can work another-’

Suddenly they both felt a flash of very familiar energy. Magnus rose from his cushions and his eyes widened in amazement. ‘Mother …?’

Pug was speechless. Seemingly out of the air his dead wife appeared, now fully restored to life. It was impossible. He had seen her die, her neck torn open by a demon’s jaws, her life spilling on the ground before he could react. He had stood silently by, his heart breaking, as Miranda and their son Caleb and his wife Marie, or what had been left of their mortal remains, had been consigned to a funeral pyre. Now she stood before him as he remembered her. He was stunned, unable to move or otherwise react.

As Miranda started to speak, ‘I’m not-’ Magnus drew back his hand and began a spell.

‘That’s not Mother!’ he shouted, and cast a bolt of purple energy that would stun and imprison her.

Except that Miranda held up both hands and the purple energy seemed to wash around her like wine splashing over a bubble of glass. Globules of energy spun off like spray to dissipate into the air. When the blast finished, Miranda flicked her hands as if shaking water off of them and said, ‘I taught you that spell, Magnus! When you were seven, trying to catch that wild kitten you wanted as a pet. Remember what happened? She scratched you until you let her go!’

The voice was his mother’s, the memory was hers, but the scent of her magic was wrong. Magnus had an ability both his parents lacked, to sense the author of magic if he or she was known to him, a lingering ‘scent’ as he thought of it, and while everything else seemed to be his mother returned from death, that scent was not only wrong, it felt inhuman.

‘What are you?’ Magnus asked hoarsely while Pug stood rooted, motionless, unable apparently to speak.

‘I’ll tell you everything,’ Miranda said, tears welling up and running down her face as she stood before the two people she loved more than life itself. ‘Everything,’ she repeated. ‘But first … I have every memory and feeling … I … I have missed you both so terribly.’ Now crying openly, she said, ‘And I miss Caleb so very much.’

Pug could barely restrain himself from crying as well. His eyes glistened as he slowly walked over to the demon-turned-human and stood before her. She whispered his name, barely able to speak, and he reached out and touched her cheek, then he slowly reached out and gathered her into his arms.

Magnus watched, his face a mask as he wrestled with equally powerful feelings. He knew in his mind this was not his mother, yet in his chest he felt powerful feelings rising and threatening to overwhelm him.

The being that appeared to be his mother sobbed uncontrollably, saying ‘I’m so sorry,’ over and over again.

They stood in silent tableau for a full minute, then Miranda stepped back, still holding Pug’s hands. ‘It’s a … difficult story to tell.’ She almost added ‘my love,’ but as much as she longed to express feelings, she knew those feelings were not hers, but those of a dead woman who meant the world to these two men.

She let go of his hands and looked at Magnus, but his expression was unreadable. ‘I am not your mother … but I am,’ she added as she saw his face tighten ever so slightly in a signal that he was growing angry, something few people would notice but a mother did. She held up her hand. ‘Keep your temper, Magnus. You were always slow to anger, but when you did you always reacted too harshly. What did I tell you when you hurt those boys bullying Caleb?’

‘Stop it!’ he shouted, colour rising in his pale cheeks and his eyes narrowing. ‘You didn’t tell me anything. My mother did, and she is dead! I saw her die! I lifted her body onto a funeral pyre and saw my father light it! My mother was ash before my eyes!’

‘Stop. You’re right. I’m not your mother. But I do remember everything as if I lived it.’ She looked around, wiping tears from her face and said, ‘Tea?’

Pug spoke, his voice full of emotion. ‘Yes.’

‘May I have a cup?’

He motioned for her to sit down, then poured a cup of tea and joined her.

‘Where to begin?’ she said after she had taken a sip. She glanced around. ‘Before I start, where are we?’

Pug explained about the Pantathians and after he finished, she said, ‘My story is stranger, but only by a little. Peaceful Pantathians? That’s … unexpected.’

‘As are you,’ Magnus said coldly. ‘How did you come to be this seemingly perfect duplicate for my mother?’

‘A long story. Perhaps you’d care to sit?’

He shook his head and she smiled. ‘Stubborn as always.’ Before he could object, she turned to Pug and said, ‘Remember what you spoke of to me about the seeming resurrection of my father as a Dasati?’

Pug’s eyes widened and he said, ‘Ban-ath?’

She nodded. ‘It is my and Nakor’s best guess.’

‘Nakor!’ said Pug and Magnus simultaneously.

‘He’s here, too?’ asked Pug.

‘He’s back at home with Sandreena and Amirantha, discussing as much of demon lore as he can.’

Suddenly Magnus’s suspicion and anger were replaced by curiosity. ‘How did you both come back from the dead? Nakor died on another world, another plane of reality.’

She took a deep breath, then said, ‘We come from the Fifth Realm, or Circle, the demon realm of the lower hell, as some call it.’

‘You’re a demon?’ asked Magnus, his suspicion and anger returning two-fold.

She nodded. ‘Let me begin by telling you about the Fifth Circle.’

Pug gazed at the perfect image of the woman he had loved and lost, his emotions churning and roiling in ways that confounded and alarmed him. He was torn equally between a desire to take this creature into his arms, to return to the safest place he had ever experienced, the bonding of his own soul’s with another, and the desire to push her away, to drive her from his sight.

‘The old order in the demon realm is shattered,’ Miranda said, glancing at him. ‘The first kingdoms are destroyed, consumed by a void that is slowly expanding to devour that entire reality.’

‘Void?’ asked Pug, shifting his focus to what she was saying instead of who she was.

‘I believe it is the Dread, Pug.’

‘Why?’

‘It bears a strong resemblance to what you two saw with Nakor in the Te-Karana’s sacrificial pit on Omadrabar, that growing monstrosity that devours everything before it.’

Pug sighed. ‘It makes sense. There wouldn’t be only one Dreadlord trying to enter the higher realms.’ He looked at Miranda, but this time his expression was thoughtful rather than wonder-struck. ‘Kalkin once told me there had been many attempts in many places by the Dread to cross the void into our realm. He showed me destruction on an unimaginable scale.’

‘I don’t know what’s become of the demon realm after I left,’ said Miranda.

‘Your story,’ said Magnus quietly.

She took a deep breath, composing herself. ‘My earliest memories are of my mother, cradling me as she fed me bits of bloody flesh while the world she knew was falling apart around her,’ she began.

For nearly an hour Miranda told the story of her evolution as Child and being accompanied on that journey by Belog. When she had finished Pug and Magnus were both silent for a long moment, then Magnus said, ‘In all of this, do you have any sense why?’

Miranda looked honestly helpless. ‘Pug, you’ve had more dealings with Ban-ath than any mortal. His games, his mysteries, his misdirection, and lies — but there was always a purpose behind them. I have no idea specifically why he’s done this thing to Nakor and me.’

‘One can only speculate,’ answered Pug, forcing himself to a calmness he didn’t feel. ‘I suspect that it starts and ends with the survival of our world. That has always been the ultimate goal, apparently. Beyond that I would only be speculating.’

Magnus said, ‘There are only two things I can think of that make sense of any of this. Either you are here to provide Father with some intelligence, some useful data he lacks, or you are here because you possess skills he and I together lack.’

Miranda thought about this. ‘We can quibble over each other’s skills. I think I’m probably still better at locating distant objects and retrieving them, because I doubt you’ve spent any time practising that while I … was away.’

Magnus’s expression remained calm, but she could sense his discomfort at that statement.

‘And I know I can still transport myself and others better than you,’ she said to Pug. ‘But you possess a wider range of abilities than either one of us. So, if it’s not something overt and obvious, what is it?’

‘Perspective,’ said Magnus.

Pug nodded. ‘You … my wife was a remarkable talent. As you observe, she was my superior in several crafts of magic, but you bring all her skills and experiences coupled with a background alien beyond imagining to her.’ He looked down for a moment as if what he was saying was difficult. ‘I have no doubt should somehow the situation be reversed and she found herself with the growing memories of Child within her, she would have-’

‘I’d have walled them off somehow, kept them from asserting control or domination!’

‘Yes,’ said Pug.

‘Kalkin — Ban-ath — picked Child because despite her prodigious strength, she was naive and unformed. Her personality lacked years of experience and a profound sense of self that would have given her the tools to prevent your personality from dominating.’

Miranda smiled slightly at Magnus’s suggestion that ‘she’ was his mother, somehow.

‘Yet,’ said Pug, ‘there is some component within that is unique to Child, or at least to a demon’s view of things, that we need.’

‘What about Nakor?’ asked Miranda. ‘He certainly was no inexperienced babe.’

Magnus let out a slow breath, as if letting go of his anger at this manifestation of his mother as some sort of mockery and now looked on it as something it was critical he understand. ‘But you intimated this Belog was some sort of academic, correct?’

‘An archivist, yes.’

‘A sheltered existence, was my impression of what you described,’ said Magnus, ‘and not very powerful.’

‘Yes, Dahun kept power and knowledge separate.’

‘At some future time, perhaps we can take advantage of your unique experiencee …’ He looked at the perfect reconstruction of his wife and said, ‘What should I call you?’

With a wry expression he had come to know too well, she said, ‘No matter how much it distresses Magnus, I think of myself as Miranda. Besides, the last person to call Miranda “Child” was my mother and you know how I felt about that bitch.’

Magnus laughed. ‘That was unexpected.’ Then he let out a slow breath. ‘Then again, perhaps it wasn’t. I won’t call you “Mother” but I will use Miranda.’

‘Fair enough,’ she replied. ‘And I will refrain from addressing you as “son”.’

Now he tried hard not to laugh. ‘Mother only called me “son” when she was lecturing me on my shortcomings.’ He mimicked her tone and said, ‘“Son, if I have to talk to your father about this …”’

Pug stood up. ‘This is going to be difficult for all of us, for some time, I think, but we can all agree that it was not by mere whim that Kalkin undertook such a transformation. In all this there is a constant: Kalkin breaks rules but he breaks them carefully. He could, I suspect, sit down and just tell us all what we’re doing here, but there is a reason he doesn’t. I suspect he’s constrained in certain ways we can hardly understand, but that being said, he has brought the three of us together at this time to contend with something that endangers our world, and if as we all suspect, it is a coming onslaught by the Dread, then we must seek to understand as much as we can of the risk and endeavour to prepare for it as best we can.’

‘I suggest we fetch Nakor-’ said Magnus and suddenly Miranda was gone.

‘She’s a lot like your mother,’ said Pug quietly.

A moment later Miranda was back with one hand on the arm of Nakor, and Magnus said, ‘She’s exactly like Mother.’

Nakor grinned and said, ‘Pug, Magnus!’ He vigorously shook each man’s hand. ‘It is so wonderful to see you again, for the first time!’

Even Magnus could not help but laugh.