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DDDDD ZZZZZZ //
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D D AAAA RRR GGGG OOOO NN N Z I NN N EEEE ||
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D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 12
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-=========================================================+<OOOOOOOOO>|)
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D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 6
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DDDDD A A R R GGGG OOOO N NN ZZZZZZ I N NN EEEE ||
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\\
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\
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========================================================================
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DargonZine Distributed: 6/20/1999
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Volume 12, Number 6 Circulation: 716
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========================================================================
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Contents
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Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
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Withstand the Flood Jim Owens Seber 10, 999
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Talisman Zero 6 Dafydd Cyhoeddwr Winter, 2216 ID
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Talisman Zero 7 Dafydd Cyhoeddwr Spring, 2217 ID
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========================================================================
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DargonZine is the publication vehicle of the Dargon Project, a
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collaborative group of aspiring fantasy writers on the Internet.
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We welcome new readers and writers interested in joining the project.
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Please address all correspondance to <dargon@shore.net> or visit us
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on the World Wide Web at http://www.dargonzine.org/. Back issues
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are available from ftp.shore.net in members/dargon/. Issues and
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public discussions are posted to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon.
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DargonZine 12-6, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright June, 1999 by
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the Dargon Project. Editor: Ornoth D.A. Liscomb <ornoth@shore.net>,
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Assistant Editor: Jon Evans <godling@mnsinc.com>. All rights reserved.
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All rights are reassigned to the individual contributors. Stories
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and artwork appearing herein may not be reproduced or redistributed
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without the explicit permission of their creators, except in the case
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of freely reproducing entire issues for further distribution.
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Reproduction of issues or any portions thereof for profit is forbidden.
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========================================================================
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Editorial
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by Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
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<ornoth@shore.net>
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If I had any more news, I'd need a wheelbarrow!
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Well, the first thing to talk about is the recent vote regarding
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whether to continue sending the announcements that precede each issue by
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a week. In the final tally, 30 percent of the people who responded
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wanted to keep the announcements, 27 percent only wanted them some of
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the time, another 27 percent didn't care, and only 15 percent of people
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did not want to receive them at all.
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What this tells me is that the pre-issue announcements generally
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don't bother people. With that in mind, we will continue sending
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pre-issue "pings", although not for issues which follow one another in
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rapid succession. In that particular case, sending a pre-issue ping
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would clutter our readers' mailboxes, might delay getting the issue out,
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and would be unnecessary for us, since few readers' accounts would have
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expired since the previous mailing.
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That appears to be what you told us through your feedback. I'd like
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to thank everyone who took the time to vote. We try to produce the best
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magazine we can, but it's hard to know how we're doing without hearing
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feedback directly from our readers. Thanks for making the effort to let
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us know your preferences!
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The second topic is the 1999 DargonZine Writers' Summit, which took
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place June 4-6 in New York City. Each year we encourage our writers to
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get together to socialize and work on the future of DargonZine. This
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year's Summit was hosted by Alan Lauderdale, and was attended by writers
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from as far away as southern California and Aberdeen, Scotland! Our
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working sessions included discussion of our ideal writing environments,
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the things that energize or de-energize us about DargonZine, how much
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benefit we derive from the project and how much we help one another, and
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more ideas for common events in Dargon.
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Social activities included a visit to Fort Tryon Park, which
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overlooks the Hudson. While there, we also stopped at the Cloisters, a
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medieval castle and museum, which was very interesting; highlights
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included several small courtyards, famous tapestries, amazing
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illuminated manuscripts, and lots of relics. In a less historically
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accurate mode, we also ate at Medieval Times, a feudal dinner theatre
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featuring jousts, falconry, and combats. We enjoyed the view from the
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top of the World Trade Center, and took part in the usual billiards,
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bowling, and mini-golf.
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Overall, the Summit was great fun; we enjoyed meeting new friends
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and renewing old friendships, and Alan did a great job coordinating
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everything. If you're interested in a more detailed writeup or seeing
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some of our photographs, check them out on our DargonZine Summits page
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at <http://www.dargonzine.org/summit.shtml>!
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Finally, as you will have noticed if you glanced at the table of
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contents, this issue features the climactic final two parts of Dafydd's
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seven-part story "Talisman Zero". This series is a major work, both for
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DargonZine, as well as its creator, who has been with the project since
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1986. I recently took the opportunity to speak with Dafydd about the
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"Talisman" series, and he had some great things to say.
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What follows is a transcript of that discussion. Please be aware
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that this interview contains spoilers, so it is strongly recommended
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that you read this interview only after reading the final two chapters
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of "Talisman Zero" which appear in this issue.
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DZ: Why is your story entitled "Talisman Zero"? Are there additional
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parts which follow?
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Dafydd: Yes, there are. The first story was called "Talisman Zero"
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because that's where the talisman is built, but the series is
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really about putting it back together. There's going to be five
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more stories, with varying numbers of chapters in each one, and
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that's where the real storyline is.
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DZ: What is the storyline about, or what's the basic idea or theme
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behind it?
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Dafydd: Putting the Talisman back together! Each story, even the first
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story, has a different purpose and a different tale to tell in and
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of itself. In each of the stories after "Talisman Zero", getting
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the talisman back together is more or less secondary to what the
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story is about. I'm hoping to make "Talisman Five" be more focused
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on the talisman itself, but the other four of them are their own
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stories.
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DZ: How did you get the idea behind the storyline?
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Dafydd: I was watching television. There's a Highlander episode called
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"Methuselah's Gift". It's about the Methuselah Stone, which in
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Highlander mythology gives the holder of it immortality. But the
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neat thing about it is that it was fragmented, and the genesis for
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the story was that when they took all these pieces that were like
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rods of crystal and put them all together, it became a ball, and I
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thought that was really cool.
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There were other influences as well. There was a song on the radio
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going around at that time where the idea of the song was two people
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trying to get together, but things kept happening to prevent it and
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they kept moving on. And so that added a little bit to it, chasing
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people through the ages.
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And there's a series of novels called the Deverry cycle by
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Katherine Kerr. This series is about a wizard who commits a crime
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of passion, who is then doomed to live until the reincarnations of
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those who were wronged are able to overcome their troubles. So that
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was certainly another influence on the story.
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DZ: What kind of things have you learned through the writing of the
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series?
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Dafydd: With this whole storyline I've been doing more plotting
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beforehand. For "Talisman Three", which I've just finished, I did a
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whole outline of it section by section, which I had never done
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before. It made it very much easier to write, because instead of
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having to figure out how to get from Point A to Point B, I knew all
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the stops I wanted to make along the way. It was still some effort
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getting to those stops, but it was much easier.
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DZ: The series, or at least "Talisman Zero" takes place during what for
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contemporary Dargon is ancient history. Will this series ever
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catch up and integrate with the mainstream timeline?
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Dafydd: Yes. Because we're following the fragments of the talisman
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throughout time, each successive story is getting closer and closer
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to present-day Dargon. Although the stories being told aren't
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necessarily about the talisman, the talisman will become more and
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more of a driving force as time moves on. What I'd like to do by
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"Talisman Five" is have the talisman be manipulating events to get
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these people back together, because it's tired of being fragmented.
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It will eventually catch up with contemporary Dargon.
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DZ: In "Talisman Zero" you've introduced a quartet of people in a
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romantic situation. But it's far more common to see a "love
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triangle" than a "love quadrangle". Why did you choose to write the
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story with a fourth person trying to intrude on a triad rather than
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the more familiar established couple with a third person intruding?
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Dafydd: Well, I didn't think of it in those terms; it's not where I
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started from. In fact, the original outline for the series had
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three people creating the talisman and having it destroyed and them
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chasing it. So the bad guy didn't come in until later. And it
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wasn't supposed to be about that conflict. In the original idea,
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the conflict wasn't there. I wanted to explore a bisexual
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relationship, which is kind of hard to do if you only have two
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people, so I had to set it up with three. It wasn't until later in
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the creative process that I realized that there needed to be an
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antagonist, and the easiest thing is like you said: having somebody
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trying to intrude. But I didn't start with two people and add an
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intrusive third; I had started with three people and added an
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intrusive fourth. And that's how that happened.
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DZ: What keeps you writing for DargonZine?
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Dafydd: It's fun. It's a place to write where I know people will read
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what I'm writing. A lot of people hand out their writing to their
|
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friends and get almost exclusively praise back from them. One of
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the benefits of being with the project is that while everybody is
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friendly with each other, they will critique your work relatively
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honestly. And then there's the readership itself. I can put my
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stories out there and know that people have subscribed to
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DargonZine with the intention of reading it.
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DZ: Would you ever write on a professional level or for pay?
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Dafydd: That's been a dream for a long time, and with all the feedback
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I'm getting about "Talisman", it seems like maybe I'm getting to
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the level where I am publishable. But a lot of my inspiration for
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the kind of writing that I do comes from the Dargon Project itself.
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So while it would be really cool to get published, I'm not sure
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what stories I would write if the inspiration isn't there.
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DZ: If you were to spell your name phonetically, how would you spell it?
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Dafydd: It's D-A-V-I-T-H-E C-A-W-H-E-T-H-E-R.
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DZ: Is there anything else about yourself or the "Talisman" series that
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you would want to share with the readers?
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Dafydd: Not really. I hope they enjoy it!
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========================================================================
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Withstand the Flood
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by Jim Owens
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<gymfuzz@yahoo.com>
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Seber 10, 999
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It was raining as Levy and Daisy trudged over the crest of the
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ridge approaching the small hamlet where Daisy lived. Immediately Levy
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was able to see the scope of the task facing him. He paused, arms cocked
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on his hips, then turned to Daisy.
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"How long has the water level been that high?"
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"I don't know," she responded grimly. "It wasn't that high when I
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left to get you. Perhaps a day, maybe less." She looked up into the
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weeping sky, underscoring the urgency of their plight.
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"Don't worry," Levy responded, staring down into the valley,
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looking for what he hoped would be there. "I'll have the water level
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down in no time. The dam will hold."
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Daisy nodded, and they started down the slope into the village.
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As they descended Levy continued to scan the valley. He could not
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see what he was looking for, however, and the trees soon swallowed up
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the view. The path moved now in gloom, tall pines rising up all around.
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As they descended they passed two couples, trudging up the road, pushing
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or pulling carts laden with household goods. Daisy greeted them by name,
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but they merely nodded, saving their breath for the arduous climb.
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The rain washed down and down, carrying the grey earth downhill
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ahead of the pair. Mud squished out from under Levy's boots, and more
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than once he stumbled as a foot slid out from underneath him. After
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almost a bell the pair finally emerged into a clearing. Huts stood
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around a central well made of stone. Two more carts stood in the
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commons, as people packed to flee the impending flood. Daisy led Levy
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across the commons to a larger hut, then knocked twice. The door opened,
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and a burly man emerged.
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"Well met, Daisy," he said, examining Levy curiously.
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"Well met, Elder Tanner," she replied, greeting him with a hug. She
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turned to Levy. "This is Levy, of Barel. I've brought him to save the
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village."
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Levy stepped forward. "Well met, Elder Tanner."
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"Well met, Levy Barel," Tanner replied. His eyes examined Levy's
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face appraisingly.
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"I understand that Smith Balder built the dam," Levy said, "and
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kept it up until his recent death."
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"Yes, and for too long we took for granted that he would live
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forever," Tanner replied ruefully. "Had we known how ill he was, we
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would have sought your aid sooner. But now he is gone, and the secret of
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working the floodgates is gone with him."
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"I know something of smithy, and of Smith Balder's work," Levy
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stated confidently. "I think I can discern how the gates work, and
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relieve some of the pressure on the dam."
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Tanner looked skeptical. "Then you'd best hurry. The gates are
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closed, but the river's up anyway -- that means the dam's leaking, and
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could go at any time."
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Levy's stomach knotted at those words, but he smiled and nodded
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nonetheless.
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"I'll be leading him to Smith Balder's place now," Daisy said.
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Tanner nodded.
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"Best hurry. Your family has already sought high ground. You should
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join them." He looked Levy in the eye. "Don't do anything foolish, young
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man," he admonished. "If that dam goes, it'll wash away the whole
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valley, Balder's place too."
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"I'll be careful," commented Levy.
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Tanner nodded. "If the water rises suddenly, don't wait. Drop
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everything and start running uphill." He affixed Levy's eyes solemnly.
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"I will," Levy assured him, and the two left.
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Daisy had arrived in Barel two days before, in late afternoon. It
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hadn't been raining then, but the ground was saturated after days of
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showers. Fall always brought rain, and it had been raining for a
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sennight. Levy had known about Balder's Dam, as both the village and the
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dam were known, but had only been there once, five years before. He had
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been traveling as an apprentice to Barel's former blacksmith, and had
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visited to see the famed Balder smithy. Balder was already an old man,
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with no children. Levy had been shown fantastic machines and wonderful
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tools, but Balder had been very sparing with his secrets. Levy had
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recognized some of them -- he had been to Dargon for schooling, and had
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learned many secrets about water and iron, wood and rope. But many of
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the combinations Balder made eluded the casual eye, and Balder would
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have no snooping. Levy had left impressed, but little wiser.
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As they made the long walk from Barel to Balder, Daisy talked of
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the old smith. He had been found dead the week before the rain started.
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He had always been the one to work the great sluice-gates on Balder's
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Dam, and had allowed no one else to know their secrets. The townsfolk
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just assumed that he would tell someone before he died, but that had not
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happened. When the rain came, the gates were not open, and now the dam
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was leaking. Daisy knew of Levy through Levy's sister, and had come to
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seek his help. The new blacksmith consented to send him, and so Levy was
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here now, to do what he could.
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Before the pair even reached the Balder's smithy Levy knew they had
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arrived. Towering above the trees was Balder's icon; a huge, skeletal
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statue of himself. It had been there when Levy had visited before, and
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it was the one thing that stuck in Levy's mind. Now it could be seen
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through the treetops.
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"... be going back now," Daisy was saying. "I've got to go meet up
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with my family, on the ridgetop." She was staring at him intensely.
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"Don't worry, I'll be alright. Hopefully I'll be up to bring you
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all down soon."
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"Be careful," she repeated, but her eyes sparkled. "The smartest
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men in the village have looked at those gates, and they couldn't figure
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it out."
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"Don't worry, I will." Levy was troubled more by the look in those
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eyes than by the immediate peril. She suddenly hugged him, then turned
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and hurried away. He stood a moment, startled, and then headed for the
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old smithy.
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The smithy was actually a series of large barns and sheds, filled
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with blackened metal and discarded machines. In the center stood the
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great statue, blind eyes focused on a distant hill. Levy stared at it a
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long moment, contemplating its massive, articulated limbs, then hurried
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up the path to the dam. It was an earthen dam, constructed years before
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either Levy or his father was born. To one side stood the sluice gates.
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The path led directly to them. Below, at the base, Levy could see even
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now that water was flowing out from the base of the great earthen dam.
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The gates were large, wooden structures, strengthened with great iron
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bars and bolts. Beside them, built into the face of the dam, was a shed.
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In the gloom, Levy could not see into the shed until he was actually
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inside. He stood for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust.
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In the center of the shed was a large, iron cylinder, man-high and
|
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twice as wide. At its base was an opening. Levy peered inside the
|
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opening, but could see nothing in the gloom. The sharp odor of ashes
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pierced his nostrils. Scorn arose at the ignorance of whoever had tried
|
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to use this as a stove. Levy clucked his tongue at all those who lacked
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his own knowledge of mechanical things. When the thought occurred that
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he also might not have the knowledge to work this mechanism, he pushed
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it aside.
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The top of the cylinder was a large iron plate, with two flanges on
|
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either side. Iron chains were hooked to the flanges, and ran through
|
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pulleys cemented to the floor, then out to the gates. On the floor were
|
|
three other sets of chains, one for each gate. This part was obvious --
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somehow the cylinder was supposed to lift the plate, pulling the chains
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and raising the gates. But how?
|
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Levy walked around the cylinder, carefully examining it. In the
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dark it was impossible, so he took a mene to light a torch from his
|
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tinder kit. By the light of that flame, he circled the massive device,
|
|
looking for clues. There was a plug on the front that screwed into the
|
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front of the cylinder, with a square hole to accept a key, which was
|
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hanging by a cord off a post in the shed wall. When the well-greased
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plug was removed, Levy tried to see inside, but only saw a few glimmers.
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The cylinder was hollow, but Levy could not tell what, if anything, was
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inside. He could feel his own frustration and anxiety rising.
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Levy changed his tack. Perhaps there were other ways of raising the
|
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gates. He left his torch in the shed and walked outside. Water was
|
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running down around the edge of the thick doors, following the easiest
|
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path to freedom. Levy quickly picked out the ratchet system which would
|
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hold the gates up once they were raised, but no other clues existed to
|
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show how to raise them.
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An expression of sudden hope came to Levy's face, and he ran back
|
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down the path to the workshops. He searched the wood pile and soon found
|
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a maul and wedge. He chugged back up to the gates and set the wedge into
|
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the crack at the base of the gates. He knew that the water pressure was
|
|
the only thing actually sealing the gates, and if he could release a bit
|
|
of that, he could get some water flowing. The first blow bounced the
|
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iron wedge out of the crack, sending it skittering away on the stone
|
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paving. Levy reset it, and struck again. A fountain of water geysered
|
|
up, drenching and chilling him. The wedge held, and he struck again
|
|
through the fountain of water. This time the blast of water knocked him
|
|
back and dislodged the wedge. The gate slammed shut again, shaking the
|
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lintels. Levy gasped and puffed, shaking the water out of his hair. He
|
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arose, realizing for the first time the enormity of his task.
|
|
He set the maul down and returned to the hut, where his torch still
|
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burned. Getting to his knees, he examined the space under the cylinder.
|
|
Ashes were there, and the curved floor of the cylinder. To each side
|
|
were openings. Levy suddenly realized that the cylinder stood on three,
|
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wide legs -- the opening was merely the space between the two front
|
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ones. His face burned in unseen embarrassment at his own ignorance. He
|
|
sat for a moment and pondered, but could think of nothing. He got up,
|
|
extinguished the torch, shouldered his pack, and headed down to the
|
|
complex.
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Balder's house was a mass of crude models with stacks of flat
|
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wooden panels with hastily drawn images of parts and schematics. Levy
|
|
sat for a long time, examining everything. Some things he could
|
|
understand -- a multi-horse plow was simple, for example, as was a
|
|
wind-powered water pump. But others were mere shapes and symbols, made
|
|
by a mind that knew what it was seeing, and didn't need detailed
|
|
explanations to remind it. As the afternoon drew on, Levy rubbed his
|
|
eyes and propped his head on his hands, frustrated.
|
|
He could just see the man, in his mind, working on these parts.
|
|
Levy felt like he was looking over the smith's shoulder, seeing clearly
|
|
each movement, but not understanding how they all fit together. Levy
|
|
wondered if some day he himself would be leaving scratchings and doodles
|
|
behind for some poor apprentice to decode.
|
|
"If I had a son, I could teach him," Levy could imagine Balder
|
|
saying, "but I don't, and I'll not show those villagers anything! Can't
|
|
have them stealing my secrets!"
|
|
Levy shook his head. What use were secrets, anyway? Knowledge was
|
|
only good if it helped someone, or brought in money. His family had its
|
|
secrets, to be sure, but they were practical secrets, like where the
|
|
vein of gold ore was that had helped build the family wealth, or where
|
|
the source of the local stream was.
|
|
"Why couldn't you just get an apprentice, like me?" He wanted to
|
|
ask the old man. He could see those old eyes, suspicious and narrow,
|
|
looking back at him.
|
|
"You can't trust an apprentice," he replied, in Levy's mind.
|
|
"Always running off when something better or shinier shows its head. I
|
|
can't be chasing down some apprentice every time he runs away!"
|
|
"But a villager! Just show a villager! It's their village that's
|
|
threatened!"
|
|
"Bah! Ignorant townsfolk! They don't appreciate my work! If they
|
|
really wanted to know they could have come and asked me! I've been here
|
|
since before most of them were born!"
|
|
"It's no use arguing with him," Levy thought to himself. "His
|
|
mind's made up. I might as well go back home."
|
|
"You can't leave!" the old man shrieked. "You have to figure it
|
|
out! It's your job!"
|
|
"No it's not! My job is back in Barel! I don't belong here -- this
|
|
isn't my problem!"
|
|
"Of course it's your problem! Or aren't you smart enough to figure
|
|
it out?"
|
|
"I can figure it out!" But Levy could feel in his heart that the
|
|
old man was right, that for all his confidence, he would never figure
|
|
out how the machines worked, that all this knowledge was gone for good,
|
|
dead with the old smith.
|
|
"No!!" Balder was going wild, swinging his cane around like a crazy
|
|
man. He hit a shelf laden with plates, sending it crashing to the floor
|
|
with a loud bang.
|
|
|
|
Levy came to his feet as if struck, the crashing sound still
|
|
echoing in his ears. He had fallen asleep in the old smith's cabin, and
|
|
had dreamed the whole conversation. But the noise was real. There were
|
|
loud snapping sounds coming from outside. Levy dashed out the door just
|
|
in time to see a shed fold up and collapse. He ran toward it, then
|
|
stopped. The stream issuing from the base of the dam was now a torrent,
|
|
overrunning its banks. It had invaded the smithy, claiming its first
|
|
victim. Levy ran for the path to the dam, then stopped. The ground under
|
|
his feet was trembling. Levy turned instead for the cabin, grabbing his
|
|
pack. He then headed straight up the hillside beside the dam, trying to
|
|
put as much distance between himself and the coming flood as possible.
|
|
|
|
Levy had time to spare, once he reached the top of the hill. Below
|
|
the water was already pouring over the top of the sluice gates,
|
|
effectively rendering any possible solution moot. But the dam held for
|
|
several long menes more, until the stream of water cut deep enough into
|
|
the unprotected earthen face to undermine the dam's strength. Then, with
|
|
a deep rumble, the whole massive structure sagged, molten, and poured
|
|
down the valley. The lake turned from grey to brown to white, and the
|
|
rumble became a roar. A hill of water rushed down the valley, hiding
|
|
trees and boulders and buildings beneath a muddy froth. When it reached
|
|
the complex it smashed all the buildings, consuming them. The statue
|
|
stood a moment longer, then tipped on one leg and toppled. The last Levy
|
|
saw of it was one articulated arm, flailing above the swirling waters.
|
|
After that Levy just stared at the muddy rush in a sodden funk.
|
|
|
|
"Don't feel bad."
|
|
Levy started, spinning about. It was Balder's voice, but when he
|
|
turned it was Daisy's face. She was wet and muddy, but whole.
|
|
"What?" He blurted out, startled. "How did you get here?"
|
|
"When I saw my family was safe I came back for you. I couldn't find
|
|
you, though, so I climbed to safety." She looked out over the
|
|
destruction. "I said don't feel bad that you couldn't figure it out. My
|
|
father tried for days to figure it out, but couldn't."
|
|
"But your whole village is gone," Levy exclaimed, waving at the
|
|
brown wash below.
|
|
"Balder built most of that village," she replied. "We moved there
|
|
before I was born, but now we'll just move back to the old village in
|
|
the hills. It's still there -- I go there sometimes in the summer, to
|
|
tend the flocks and think."
|
|
"But your homes, your things, ..."
|
|
"We have our things with us, and we can build another home. The
|
|
most important thing is that we have our families. We can build again."
|
|
Levy stared down at the morass below. "None of this would have
|
|
happened if Balder had had a family, to tell his secrets to."
|
|
Daisy shrugged. "Secrets aren't everything. Your family is what's
|
|
important. That's what lasts."
|
|
Levy didn't entirely agree, but didn't respond. Instead he asked,
|
|
"So how do we get down?"
|
|
"We don't, until the water recedes. We'll have to stay here for a
|
|
while, unless we want to walk all the way around the back of the lake."
|
|
"No, we can wait. It's just as fast." So they sat and watched the
|
|
lake empty. As the shore gradually receded, Levy noted that a series of
|
|
rectangular patterns emerged, laid out on the lakebed. When the lake had
|
|
formed, a village had been flooded, only to reemerge as the lake now
|
|
died. The cycle continued despite him, despite them all. Birth and
|
|
death, creation and destruction. It was a small consolation, but a
|
|
consolation nonetheless. Their part in the cycle complete, Daisy and
|
|
Levy watched as the day ended, waiting for the sunrise and a chance to
|
|
move on.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|
|
Talisman Zero
|
|
Part 6
|
|
by Dafydd Cyhoeddwr
|
|
<John.White@Drexel.Edu>
|
|
Winter, 2216 ID
|
|
|
|
Part 1 of this story was printed in DargonZine 12-1
|
|
Part 7 of this story appears later in this issue
|
|
|
|
Orlebb sat in his bedroom and fumed. Nothing! Two weeks of trying,
|
|
and he had received nothing except a very nice wooden bust of himself
|
|
from Kendil, a kiss from Eldinan, and a flat out rejection from Nikkeus.
|
|
It shouldn't be working out like this. He thought that his meeting
|
|
with Kendil had gone well. There had been lots of sly innuendo; a good
|
|
connection on a basic level. He had been sure that an assignation was
|
|
forthcoming. But no, just the bust -- head and shoulders only, so why
|
|
had he had to pose like that for so long? It was fine artistry, and
|
|
those tools he had been storing away in his inventory had certainly
|
|
found the right hands to use them. But nothing more had come of the
|
|
gift.
|
|
And then there was Eldinan -- that model ship had obviously meant a
|
|
great deal to her. His informants had told him of her connection to the
|
|
captain of _Celene's Fire_, and he had put that together with the
|
|
identity of the sailor's son in the village. It had been a small matter
|
|
to put a little poison in the man's flour, and naturally the
|
|
distribution of the man's effects had been left to him. And she had
|
|
kissed him, only on the cheek, but still! Yet nothing more had come of
|
|
it: no invitation, not even a smile and a wink as they passed in the
|
|
halls.
|
|
Then there was Nikkeus. He seemed so much younger than the others,
|
|
though he knew the musician was a year older than Kendil. But there was
|
|
an innocence about him, maybe in those large so-green eyes.
|
|
The lute had been another item from Orlebb's inventory. He had
|
|
acquired it several years ago, when a skaldric had come to Wudamund and
|
|
had subsequently fallen on hard times. The lute had been collateral for
|
|
a loan, which had led to another loan when the man's 'sure thing' at the
|
|
backroom gambling tables hadn't paid off. And eventually, it had led
|
|
finally to a quiet knife in an alley -- none of Orlebb's doing, strictly
|
|
the result of excessive gambling debts. Orlebb hadn't recovered his
|
|
loans, but the lute itself was worth far more than he had lent to the
|
|
skaldric, so he didn't mind the loss.
|
|
Orlebb had had the lute tuned by one of the keep's musicians, and
|
|
then presented it. The Hrothgrim lute had seemed to belong in the young
|
|
man's hands, and Nikkeus had played it with consummate skill. That tune
|
|
had made Orlebb feel warm, happy, light inside. He hadn't planned what
|
|
happened afterward, but those eyes staring at him so openly, and the
|
|
good feeling inside of him, had prompted him to bypass all of his
|
|
schemes and just kiss him.
|
|
But it hadn't worked. It was his first direct rejection, but once
|
|
the boy passed the story around, they would all hate him. The time for
|
|
subtle maneuvering was over. But what could he do?
|
|
He decided, finally, to meditate, as he usually did when he was
|
|
confused.
|
|
He stood and walked over to the small table set against a wall of
|
|
his room. He knelt on the stool in front of it as if it were a shrine --
|
|
which it almost was. He took up the small clay jar of fragrant oil that
|
|
rested to one side, and poured a bit into the small brass bowl on top of
|
|
the contraption that seemed to be the focus of the table. It consisted
|
|
of a pole atop which sat the brass bowl and from which was suspended a
|
|
cylinder made of some kind of painted parchment wrapped around a brass
|
|
wire frame. Hanging from the bottom of the cylinder were tiny brass
|
|
bells.
|
|
With practiced ease, Orlebb took hold of the cylinder carefully and
|
|
spun it. The bells chimed softly, the seemingly random splotches of
|
|
paint on the parchment flowed together with the cylinder's rotation,
|
|
becoming pleasing and eye-catching patterns. A humming arose from the
|
|
object where the cylinder's supports came into contact with the central
|
|
pole. A delicate scent started to waft up from the brass bowl on top as
|
|
the oil within it was heated by something inside the pole.
|
|
Orlebb placed his hands flat on the table before the memory wheel
|
|
and stared at the patterns. As he let the patterns ease the confusion in
|
|
his mind, he mused that this was probably the last memory wheel in
|
|
existence. Twenty years ago, when a teraehran of Fretheod soldiers had
|
|
encountered his people's small village just to the south of the Darst
|
|
mountains, they had first made overtures of friendship to the somewhat
|
|
isolated group of people. But the Lord Keeper of Wudamund at the time
|
|
had harbored grand plans. It had been his dream that Province Drabethel,
|
|
as the Fretheod conquerors called the northern part of the continent,
|
|
would become more than just a remote outpost of the empire. Wudamund had
|
|
existed for hundreds and hundreds of years as just a tiny enclave of the
|
|
empire. That Lord Keeper had intended to conquer the entirety of the
|
|
north of Cherisk, so that proper colonization could ensue. So the very
|
|
next time a Fretheod teraehran had come to his village, they had come
|
|
not with trade goods, but with drawn swords.
|
|
Orlebb had been eighteen at the time, and had tried to help defend
|
|
his village at first. But his people were not used to fighting other
|
|
people. The wall around the village had been plenty to keep the animals
|
|
of the forest out, and of course they all knew how to hunt because they
|
|
needed to live. But hunting people had never been a sport they took to,
|
|
and so were unprepared for fighting against thinking beings.
|
|
Orlebb had seen the way the tide of battle was going, and he had
|
|
decided not to die with his people. He had gone back to his house,
|
|
gathered up all of his things, including the memory wheel, and slipped
|
|
over the wall on the other side of the village from the fighting. He had
|
|
hidden in the woods until the victorious Fretheod soldiers had started
|
|
marching back to their own homes. He followed, and ended up at Wudamund.
|
|
Orlebb closed his left eye, and the colors of everything he looked
|
|
at shifted, lightening and gaining a yellowish cast. He opened his left
|
|
eye and closed his right, and the colors darkened, taking on a greenish
|
|
cast. He stared at the patterns on the still moving cylinder with each
|
|
eye separately, and as usual, he saw different things with either eye.
|
|
He sometimes wondered about his mismatched eyes and the way they saw
|
|
things differently. Had the eyes he had been born with somehow foretold
|
|
the way he currently sometimes found himself two different people? His
|
|
upbringing in the village had been so different from the role he had
|
|
played amongst the Fretheod, a role he played well enough to attain the
|
|
highest rank possible to a native. Would his father have been proud of
|
|
his accomplishments? Did it matter? His father was long dead, and Orlebb
|
|
had this life to lead all by himself. Different colors, different lives,
|
|
but none of that was helping him work his way into the trio!
|
|
He opened both eyes and a blend of the two shadings, the two sets
|
|
of shapes he had seen in the spinning cylinder, took form before him. He
|
|
concentrated on the patterns, in finding the meaning in them. The
|
|
tinging of the bells and the hum of the inner pole soothed his thoughts,
|
|
and the scent of the burning oil made those soothed thoughts drift with
|
|
the shapes on the cylinder. He drifted for a time like that, the
|
|
cylinder spinning and spinning far, far beyond when it should have
|
|
stopped.
|
|
Finally, the oil scent dissipated, and the cylinder began to slow.
|
|
Orlebb started to blink as the swirling patterns became splotches of
|
|
paint again, and after a moment, he smiled as broadly as he ever did. He
|
|
knew what to do next.
|
|
That night he took a sack and started collecting things into it
|
|
from his bedroom. He chose small items mostly -- his metal comb, one of
|
|
the small round stones he had played marbles with back in his village --
|
|
but some larger ones as well.
|
|
One such was a statue that he kept on his mantle. As he lifted it
|
|
down, he recalled with fondness winning it from his best friend at
|
|
Ajee-ra, a game that was part gambling, part sport, and part puzzle.
|
|
Miffet's family had put great significance on the statue, using it as a
|
|
point of pride in the village. Miffet's father had supposedly found the
|
|
statue in the ruins of a vast city buried underneath the Darst
|
|
mountains. Everyone in the village held him to be a great explorer,
|
|
despite the fact that he had never been able to lead anyone back to
|
|
where he had found the city.
|
|
Orlebb had envied his best friend Miffet the acclaim caused by the
|
|
statue. So, he had set it up so that the Ajee-ra game had come out in
|
|
his favor. The statue had passed to him, but Miffet had told his father
|
|
that someone had stolen it. Orlebb had gained the statue, but Miffet's
|
|
family had lost none of the acclaim. His failure to discredit Miffet's
|
|
family bothered him, but the fact that he had the statue and Miffet
|
|
didn't pleased him more.
|
|
The statue was distinctly odd looking. It was in the shape of two
|
|
obelisks fastened base to base. A quartet of limbs projected from each
|
|
face of the lower obelisk and arched downward to form a four pointed
|
|
base of support for the object, while the four faces of the upper
|
|
obelisk had a bump on each one, as if further limbs were retracted
|
|
inside the shape. Strange markings -- writing? -- covered the upper
|
|
obelisk on all sides.
|
|
He lowered it carefully into the sack and continued around the
|
|
room. He thought about adding the memory wheel, but finally decided
|
|
against it. When he felt he had gathered up enough, he took his keys and
|
|
left the room.
|
|
He went directly, yet cautiously, to the small workroom that had
|
|
been reserved for the project that Eldinan's trio was working on. Zawk
|
|
had spent a great deal of time there, and though it wasn't common
|
|
knowledge, Orlebb had learned that the crucible the erlantrielk had been
|
|
commissioned to build was set up in there and had been activated. While
|
|
Zawk worked on creating the mold, the others were slowly feeding
|
|
materials into the crucible to be melted and merged into the single
|
|
substance that would form the basis of the talisman they were building.
|
|
Orlebb had no difficulty entering the room, and he looked at the
|
|
vat that was sitting within a lifting frame. It appeared to be made of
|
|
wood, but it was about half filled with a strangely glowing liquid that
|
|
gave off a lot of heat. Orlebb opened his sack and started to feed its
|
|
contents one by one into the magical crucible.
|
|
Item after personal item vanished into the glowing soup in the tub,
|
|
some liquefying completely as they fell unnaturally slowly from the rim
|
|
to the level of the contents. Orlebb was almost giggling, feeling a
|
|
resurgence of a little boy's 'playing with fire' glee, by the time he
|
|
pulled out that strange statue and slipped it over the edge carefully.
|
|
He watched the edges of the statue start to melt, the legs going first
|
|
as it slowly fell toward the liquid. He thought he saw the mixture glow
|
|
a bit brighter as the statue sank beneath the surface, and then flush
|
|
purplish before returning to its normal white-yellow glow. But he might
|
|
have imagined it.
|
|
He turned from the tub and started to walk back to his rooms. Now
|
|
everything was set. Items of personal importance to him had been mixed
|
|
into the talisman's substance, which made him part of the bonding. He
|
|
had a couple of months to figure out how to be there when the invocation
|
|
was made -- he figured that it would take his active participation in
|
|
the ceremony for everything to be finalized. But then, he would be part
|
|
of the group, and they would even like it, no matter how they felt now.
|
|
|
|
Eldinan had made the decision the night before. She had been toying
|
|
with it for a while, but it was a big step. Sacrificing her anhekova
|
|
meant acknowledging that a fundamental change had come to the empire.
|
|
Then again, she had just endured one of her most difficult ocean voyages
|
|
thanks to the failure of the Yrmenweald, so that fundamental change was
|
|
a fact whether she acknowledged it or not.
|
|
That was why she was reaching into her storage chest this morning
|
|
and lifting out her anhekova. She slid it out of the soft cloth bag
|
|
where she kept it in off-duty times like this and gazed at it fondly.
|
|
She ran her eyes over the slightly imperfect oval of milky stone, the
|
|
exquisite knot-work in the wood of the shaft bearing the slight wear
|
|
marks from being handled over the years. She made an attempt to remove
|
|
the crystal from the setting, but realized that she wasn't going to be
|
|
able to free it without damaging the shaft. It would just all have to
|
|
go. She mourned the imminent loss of this material tie to her
|
|
grandfather, but once it was part of the talisman, it would be with her
|
|
forever.
|
|
She carried the staff down to the workroom and knocked on the door.
|
|
Kendil opened it and she walked in. Without much ceremony at all, she
|
|
walked over to the magical vat that was almost full of glowing, molten
|
|
liquid. She held the anhekova out in front of her and placed her hand on
|
|
the cwicustan crystal. No contact, as usual. She silently bid it, and
|
|
all it stood for, farewell, and let it drop into the vat. As it passed
|
|
the lip of the vat, it slowed down as if it was falling through thick
|
|
oil, and the wooden shaft started immediately to flame. The shaft was
|
|
ashes by the time the crystal oval struck the liquid. Both elements sank
|
|
quickly under the surface, as odd as it was for ashes to sink. Eldinan
|
|
was turning away when she could have sworn that the liquid flashed an
|
|
eerie blue for a brief moment, but it went back to its normal color
|
|
quickly and she decided she had imagined it.
|
|
Kendil was just letting Nikkeus into the room. The musician was
|
|
carrying a basket full of odds and ends and he smiled at the others in
|
|
the room before going over to the vat and starting to throw the objects
|
|
in one by one. Eldinan watched him for a moment -- he seemed to be
|
|
enjoying his task, much like a boy might play at sticking different
|
|
materials into a fire to see how they burned. With a chuckle, she turned
|
|
and walked over to Kendil, who was standing next to a large domed
|
|
contrivance sitting on a table next to the vat.
|
|
"So that's it, eh?" she said.
|
|
"That's it all right," said Kendil. "The mold for the talisman's
|
|
basic form. Zawk assures me that it will hold perfectly."
|
|
She looked into the opening at the top of the dome, and saw that
|
|
the inside of the dome was shaped as she had imagined the talisman's
|
|
general shape would be. "How much longer?"
|
|
"Well, Nikk is adding what should be the last load of oddments.
|
|
We'll wait a bit once he's done, and then start pouring."
|
|
Nikkeus took his time, but Eldinan wasn't impatient enough to make
|
|
him hurry. Besides, it was fun to watch him play. In time he was
|
|
finished, and after waiting a while longer to ensure that everything was
|
|
melted and mixed, Kendil moved the table into position. Using the lever
|
|
on the side of the lifting apparatus, he hoisted the vat into position
|
|
over the mold. There was a bar attached to the bottom of the vat, and he
|
|
used this to tip the vat so that the molten liquid inside poured
|
|
perfectly into the opening at the top of the talisman's mold. The liquid
|
|
glowed brightly with heat, but Eldinan just squinted and watched it
|
|
pour.
|
|
Every last drop of the liquid ran out of the vat, revealing its
|
|
incongruous wooden sides. Kendil lowered it back into place on the
|
|
frame, and then dragged the frame into a corner of the workroom. "Zawk
|
|
says that by tomorrow the enchantment on the vat will dissipate. Until
|
|
then, we should all keep clear of it."
|
|
Eldinan looked at the domed form sitting on the table with the
|
|
small pool of glowing liquid showing at its top. Already the glow was
|
|
dimming now that the liquid had been removed from the crucible that had
|
|
kept it hot. "So, all we can do now is wait, right?"
|
|
As the three of them headed back to their room, Eldinan was very
|
|
pleased. The first actual step had been taken, and now the first
|
|
physical evidence of their talisman had been produced. The equinox was
|
|
weeks away and there was still a great deal of work to do, but finally
|
|
it was starting to look like their private krovelathan ceremony was
|
|
going to happen!
|
|
|
|
Kendil stood in the workshop and looked at the talisman on the
|
|
table in front of him. Their design was slowly being revealed in the
|
|
strange stone-like substance that the talisman was made from, and it
|
|
looked even more magnificent as it was slowly revealed in three
|
|
dimensions than it had on the parchment where it had been sketched.
|
|
The disk of the talisman had been divided roughly into three equal
|
|
sections, one for each of them. Three-banded Geronlel knot-work wove all
|
|
over the surface of the talisman and even though it was currently
|
|
composed of grooves indented into the surface to hold the metal and
|
|
glass bands that made up the complicated plan, it still looked intricate
|
|
and impressive. They had also worked totem beasts into the knot-work
|
|
design, two examples of each of their chosen totems in each section but
|
|
worked so that each of those examples blended with the totem animal of
|
|
each of the others' where the sections met. The result was both
|
|
beautiful and elegantly symbolic of the tripartite bond that the
|
|
talisman was supposed to represent.
|
|
The carving was going well, even though Elin had never carved
|
|
anything before and Nikk had only carved a few things into wood. Kendil
|
|
himself wasn't nearly as proficient with stone as he was with wood, but
|
|
somehow, the stone-like composite material that looked like heavily
|
|
veined marble carved like sandstone without that soft stone's actual
|
|
softness. Once Elin and Nikk had painted the sketched design onto the
|
|
talisman's surface, those parts of the stone that didn't belong to the
|
|
finished product just seemed vanish under the chisels borrowed from the
|
|
masons' workshops.
|
|
The carving was about halfway done. The three of them had set up a
|
|
schedule at Kendil's suggestion. He felt that if they did just a little
|
|
at a time, and worked in pairs so that someone with some kind of carving
|
|
experience was there at all times, they stood the best chance of not
|
|
making any hideous mistakes. And it seemed to be working perfectly. The
|
|
three sets of totem beasts were really taking shape -- Nikk's cats,
|
|
Elin's falcons, and his own foxes, each entwined with one of the other
|
|
totems. The reverse spaces for the knot-work were beginning to spread
|
|
out from the beasts since there was a little extra work going on with
|
|
them so that the two metal bands could be cast right on the talisman and
|
|
would lock into place. The third band, which would be composed of glass,
|
|
had been altered slightly from the original plan so that it could
|
|
accommodate wedges of wood that would hold it in properly once it was
|
|
created.
|
|
He was early this morning. Elin was taking her time in the bathing
|
|
room but he expected her down shortly. He was somewhat surprised when he
|
|
arrived that the room hadn't been cleaned as it usually was. Even though
|
|
they locked it up tight every night, when they came in in the morning,
|
|
it was swept and polished up perfectly. Of course someone else had keys,
|
|
but it wasn't normal for the workrooms to be cleaned regularly by the
|
|
cleaning staff.
|
|
He heard a key in the lock of the room and turned toward it. Elin
|
|
would have just knocked, so who could it be? The door opened and Orlebb
|
|
walked in carrying a mop and bucket, and rags. He closed the door behind
|
|
him and turned around, and let out a little gasp as he saw that the room
|
|
was occupied.
|
|
"Oh, ah ... You are here early, Kendil. I was just ..." Orlebb
|
|
lifted the bucket and rags with a shrug, then set them down next to the
|
|
door.
|
|
Kendil hadn't seen very much of the castellan since delivering the
|
|
wooden bust he had made for the man. He still recalled the vague
|
|
disquiet that he had felt while they talked. That the castellan himself
|
|
was performing cleaning services in their workroom only made him even
|
|
more uneasy.
|
|
Orlebb walked over to the table, saying, "I hope you and the others
|
|
don't mind that I undertook to keep your workspace clean myself. I
|
|
understand that this project of yours is something of a secret, and
|
|
thought that it would be more discreet to do it myself." He stopped by
|
|
the talisman and stared down at it. Kendil didn't like the almost
|
|
proprietary look that the castellan gave it. "Yes, this is an amazing
|
|
work of art." He looked up and asked, "So, what might it be for?"
|
|
Kendil thought that Orlebb looked smug as he asked his question,
|
|
but he couldn't imagine that the man knew what their talisman was really
|
|
for. "Oh, it's just something to keep Eldinan, Nikkeus and myself busy
|
|
over this winter. None of us are used to the kind of inactivity that
|
|
winter in Wudamund means and Nikk had this idea ... and, well, here it
|
|
is."
|
|
Orlebb nodded knowingly, and said, "Yes, I can understand how such
|
|
a backwater place as Wudamund might be lacking in excitement for folks
|
|
from the heart of the empire. And you can only stay in bed for so long
|
|
per day, eh?" He chuckled, and Kendil frowned slightly. "Well, you just
|
|
go ahead with your work and I'll clean up as usual. Don't mind me." He
|
|
walked back to his bucket and mop, grabbed some rags, and started
|
|
dusting down the table top.
|
|
Kendil stood still for a moment, but finally decided that he
|
|
couldn't take the humming, or the sidelong glances that were always
|
|
backed by the slightest of smirks. He said, "I think I'll go see what is
|
|
keeping Elin. We'll be right back." He hurried out, but he couldn't get
|
|
the thought out of his head as he walked back to the Green Tower. What
|
|
did Orlebb know or think he knew about the talisman?
|
|
|
|
Nikkeus found himself amazed by the results the three of them had
|
|
produced so far. The carving of the body of the talisman had gone
|
|
flawlessly, and the stone-like base was perfectly set up for the next
|
|
step. The tracks in the stone that would contain the interlaced bands
|
|
had been worked just right -- the two tracks for the metal bands were
|
|
flanged at the base, while the track for the glass band was dotted with
|
|
slots for the wooden wedges.
|
|
He was finishing up the preparatory steps to casting the first
|
|
band. Each metal band would to be hollow, as well as continuous. So, a
|
|
form had been constructed to take up space in the middle of each band
|
|
that would dissolve as the poured metal cooled. Also, the places where
|
|
the bands crossed required blockages and bridges so that each band would
|
|
keep its shape and cross properly.
|
|
It had been Elin who had figured out just exactly how to place the
|
|
bridges and blockages. She had said it was like a puzzle whose pieces
|
|
had just fit together in her mind, leaving her with the answer without
|
|
her even having to put much thought into it. Nikkeus thought that it was
|
|
something like his musical talent and Kendil's carving skill, just not
|
|
as well recognized. It had certainly proved useful with the talisman.
|
|
Once the solution had been found, the three of them took turns
|
|
working on the preparation -- there was only room for one to work at a
|
|
time. The other two worked on gathering and melting the metals for the
|
|
first band. This melting only needed a normal crucible and a very hot
|
|
fire, so it was done before he had finished the last details. But he
|
|
caught up quickly, and finally everything was ready for the first pour.
|
|
The crucible was moved into position carefully. All three of them
|
|
held their breath as they tipped it slowly over the track for the iron
|
|
band and watched the molten metal pour out and flow around the proper
|
|
grooves in the talisman.
|
|
Soon the track was filled properly, and Kendil and Nikkeus took the
|
|
crucible back to the fire. Then they all stood around the table,
|
|
watching the white-hot metal rapidly change color as it cooled. Even
|
|
when it had returned to its normal dull silver, the metal still radiated
|
|
enough heat to be felt a hand's breadth from its surface.
|
|
So, they waited longer, chatting about the design and discussing
|
|
the structural elements that would be needed for the next band. Nikkeus
|
|
found himself really enjoying their conversation, the way they were all
|
|
concentrated on the same thing, all bringing their different talents
|
|
together to produce a single object. It was so symbolic of their
|
|
relationship, that he felt himself filling with a tingling lightness
|
|
whenever he thought of it. The feeling made him just want to giggle and
|
|
jump, but he didn't want to seem childish in front of his lovers, so he
|
|
just savored the sensations and grinned.
|
|
Finally, the metal had cooled enough to handle. All three of them
|
|
carefully worked to remove the forms and ease the bridges out from under
|
|
the band. Then, Nikkeus tapped it with a small hammer and it rang with a
|
|
very interesting tone. They all smiled at each other, and Nikkeus said,
|
|
"Perfect!"
|
|
Kendil fetched some polishing cloths, and in short order, with
|
|
three sets of hands working on it, the metal band was soon gleaming
|
|
brightly. Even though it was only one third of the knot-work, it had its
|
|
own beauty as it traced a continuous path around the entire talisman,
|
|
beginning in the center of one of the cats and ending in the other cat.
|
|
Elin said, "It's already a work of art!" and everyone agreed with her.
|
|
Elin and Kendil went to work emptying and cleaning the crucible,
|
|
while Nikkeus went to work on the talisman again, starting to build the
|
|
same things into the track that would contain the next band. He had
|
|
barely started when Kendil came over and said, "We still don't have
|
|
enough brass and such to fill out the second track. Elin and I are going
|
|
out to scrounge. Would you like us to fetch some lunch?"
|
|
Nikkeus said, "Yes. Thanks."
|
|
Kendil hugged him, and Eldinan kissed him. "Don't work too hard.
|
|
I'll take the next session," she said as the two of them walked out of
|
|
the room.
|
|
Nikkeus was happy that the ambitious plan had worked, but there was
|
|
more to do, and the idea for the third band was even more ambitious. He
|
|
was working away steadily when the door to the workshop opened and
|
|
Orlebb walked in.
|
|
He was carrying a sack and a tray of food. He walked right up next
|
|
to Nikkeus and set both items down on the table. The sack clinked like
|
|
it was full of metal as it settled.
|
|
Orlebb said, "I heard that your project needs more metals of value,
|
|
and I just happened to have some lying around. You know, odds and ends
|
|
of fancy tableware, left behind jewelry, that sort of thing. And when I
|
|
saw Captain Eldinan in a hallway, she mentioned you were wanting some
|
|
lunch. I believe she and Kendil are taking their meal as they search for
|
|
more materials."
|
|
The castellan looked at the talisman, and said, "Oh, my health,
|
|
that looks fantastic! And, yes, I see how you set it all up, bridges and
|
|
forms and what's this? The bands are hollow then?" He tapped on the iron
|
|
band with his fingernail, and then with the hilt of his knife when his
|
|
first try produced nothing. At the tone the hilt produced from the band,
|
|
he laughed -- without smiling. "A work of art visually as well as
|
|
aurally. Not that I should have expected anything else from the three of
|
|
you, right?"
|
|
Nikkeus was not comfortable at all with the castellan in the room.
|
|
He didn't like the way the man was looking at the talisman, and how did
|
|
he dare rap on it with his dagger? But he liked it even less when Orlebb
|
|
looked up at him -- there was a look on the man's face that seemed ...
|
|
hungry? Nikkeus almost recognized something familiar in the look, but
|
|
not quite. Perhaps it was that unsmiling mouth that hampered his
|
|
recognition.
|
|
The silence stretched longer and longer, and Orlebb just continued
|
|
to look at him with that hungry stare. Finally, Nikkeus said, slowly,
|
|
"Um ... Thank you. For the praise, and the food. And the metal. And ...
|
|
ah ... I should get back to, well, work ..."
|
|
Orlebb nodded, and said, "Yes, yes, more work. It is all moving
|
|
along quite well, eh?. And I have work to do as well. Keep up the
|
|
amazing work, Nikkeus."
|
|
Nikkeus sighed with relief as the castellan left the room. He
|
|
pulled over a chair, and started nibbling at the lunch of meat, cheese
|
|
and bread, trying to regain his composure. Maybe once he and Elin and
|
|
Kendil were officially, if untraditionally, bonded, he would feel safer
|
|
around that strange man.
|
|
Maybe.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
|
|
Talisman Zero
|
|
Part 7
|
|
by Dafydd Cyhoeddwr
|
|
<John.White@Drexel.Edu>
|
|
Spring Equinox, 2217 ID
|
|
|
|
Part 1 of this story was printed in DargonZine 12-1
|
|
|
|
Nikkeus ran the fine rasp once more over the edge of the small
|
|
wooden wedge and fitted it between the oval of glass and the stone in
|
|
the center of one of the carved falcons. There, perfect fit. He withdrew
|
|
the wedge with his fingernails, dabbed it with glue, slid it back home,
|
|
and tapped it with a small hammer that had a piece of felt tied around
|
|
its head. Done, finally! And none too soon, either.
|
|
Nikkeus sat up and looked at the finished product. The talisman
|
|
rested on the table in the workroom, every piece of glass wedged and
|
|
locked into place along the third band of Geronlel knot-work. It had
|
|
taken the three of them three weeks to make, shape, fit, and reshape
|
|
five score lengths of glass so that they filled in the track of the
|
|
third band on the talisman. Each piece was really three pieces of glass
|
|
-- one piece, the largest, clear, with two other pieces, one blue, one
|
|
red, attached to its underside. The work had been difficult and time
|
|
consuming, but the result was worth it all.
|
|
Eldinan had quickly seen the first problem with the proposal to
|
|
have each segment of the band span multiple intersections. For reasons
|
|
that made sense to her and ended up being absolutely accurate, each
|
|
segment of rolled, shaped, and fused glass had only been able to be
|
|
fitted from intersection to intersection. This had required carving more
|
|
wedge slots into the stone-composite of the talisman's base, as well as
|
|
requiring far more work just to shape that number of pieces. Each and
|
|
every piece had then required hand-crafting, and the wooden wedges the
|
|
same, which had all added up to it being the spring equinox with the
|
|
talisman being unfinished.
|
|
But now, it was done. It lay in front of him in all of its
|
|
splendor, and he could hardly believe it was finished. He removed the
|
|
felt from his tiny hammer and rapped on the metal bands. The crossings
|
|
of the bands turned them into collections of individual lengths, much
|
|
like the glass band, instead of one continuous length, so that when he
|
|
tapped them in different places, he got all kinds of different notes. He
|
|
deduced that the variation was caused by the varying lengths between
|
|
each crossing, plus the different materials that composed each crossing,
|
|
plus slight variations in the carving of the tracks themselves.
|
|
The musicality of the talisman seemed to draw Nikkeus, who had been
|
|
awake since yesterday morning, into a trance. Elin and Kendil had also
|
|
stayed up the night, and into the afternoon helping with the last stages
|
|
of construction, but he had sent them back to their quarters to get some
|
|
rest so that someone would be fresh for the ceremony.
|
|
His mind fogged by lack of sleep and somewhat giddy at having
|
|
finished the talisman in time, Nikkeus slipped into a strange state. He
|
|
started tapping methodically around the talisman, slowly at first, and
|
|
then faster and faster, learning the notes, figuring out how to play
|
|
this new instrument. On a whim, he wet a finger and stroked it along the
|
|
glass band, and was surprised by the ringing vibration that rose from
|
|
each segment. That result he couldn't explain at all, but he cataloged
|
|
the tones produced and added them to the developing musical range of the
|
|
talisman.
|
|
Nikkeus thought he had learned more than half of the possible notes
|
|
when the door to the workshop opened. He stopped and turned, shaking off
|
|
his trance-like state. He expected that this would be Elin and Kendil
|
|
come to see if he had finished.
|
|
But it wasn't them, it was Orlebb. Before the still somewhat dazed
|
|
Nikkeus could tense up, the castellan said, "It is growing late,
|
|
Nikkeus. The sun has set already. You will need help getting your
|
|
talisman, your krovelathad, to the roof of Green Tower, will you not?"
|
|
Nikkeus took the revelation that Orlebb knew their secret in
|
|
stride. He nodded -- the castellan was right. The talisman was somewhat
|
|
heavy, and they had planned that the ceremony take place not very long
|
|
after sunset.
|
|
"I must fetch El--"
|
|
"No, no. I'll help you carry it up there. Why should Eldinan and
|
|
Kendil come all the way down here just to retrace their steps all the
|
|
way back to your quarters, and then beyond to the roof? Come on, get a
|
|
good grip and let's go."
|
|
Orlebb strode over to the table and latched onto the talisman.
|
|
Swept along by the castellan's plan, Nikkeus grabbed the other side, and
|
|
they started toward the tower.
|
|
Their progress through the keep was swift and surprisingly
|
|
uneventful. Nikkeus was almost too befuddled to notice, but they met no
|
|
one in the corridors they passed through.
|
|
In the anteroom to the tower, Nikkeus finally saw someone -- a page
|
|
standing by the door. The young girl opened the door for the laden pair,
|
|
and Nikkeus saw Orlebb nod to the girl, who turned over the sand-glass
|
|
she carried in her other hand, causing the sand in the upper bulb to
|
|
start to flow into the lower bulb.
|
|
Nikkeus wanted to stop when they reached the sixth floor landing
|
|
and fetch Kendil and Elin, but Orlebb said, "No, no. Why don't we get
|
|
everything set up up there first? That way you can get started as soon
|
|
as they arrive. I'll send a page to let them know everything is ready.
|
|
It'll be fine."
|
|
Nikkeus shrugged and followed the still climbing castellan. Two
|
|
more flights of stairs, and Orlebb opened the door onto the roof.
|
|
Nikkeus trailed the castellan out onto the chilly, rainy, flat platform
|
|
at the top of Green Tower and looked around. A low wall surrounded the
|
|
platform, and the only other structure was the stairwell hood itself. In
|
|
the center of the platform, a low table had been set up, and Orlebb was
|
|
moving in that direction. Three lanterns had been set up against the
|
|
parapet wall, providing just about enough illumination from their
|
|
magically glowing interiors that he wouldn't trip over the table or run
|
|
into the walls.
|
|
They reached the table and set the talisman onto it. Nikkeus
|
|
shivered as chill rain blew across the platform, and Orlebb said, "Not
|
|
the best of nights for an important ceremony, is it? Come, I've brought
|
|
you a robe. The page will make sure your companions bring theirs as
|
|
well. It's over here behind the stair hood."
|
|
Nikkeus followed Orlebb into the narrow area between the stair hood
|
|
and the parapet wall. He looked over the edge and took in the view out
|
|
over the keep and the village beyond. He looked left and saw the faint
|
|
lights of the ships moored at the docks on the other side of the
|
|
Coldwell. He looked back toward the village, and saw the circle out on
|
|
the edge of the village where the more traditional krovelathan ceremony
|
|
was getting ready to take place. Large bonfires ringed the circle of
|
|
people, and smaller ones dotted the space inside. He had no idea how
|
|
many people were getting bonded in the ceremony below -- he had been far
|
|
too busy the last few months to listen to keep gossip about that sort of
|
|
thing. With a little sigh of happiness at the fact that their own
|
|
ceremony was really going to happen in just a little while, he turned
|
|
back toward Orlebb, wondering where the robe was.
|
|
He just about had time to notice that the robe was on Orlebb when
|
|
the castellan's knife hilt caught him in the temple. As he crumpled into
|
|
darkness, a flash of lightning lit up the top of the tower, the crash of
|
|
thunder following soon enough that he heard it as he dropped into
|
|
unconsciousness.
|
|
|
|
Another bolt of lightning illuminated the storm-dark night as
|
|
Orlebb rose over the prone body of Nikkeus. He sheathed his knife as he
|
|
watched the trickle of blood at Nikkeus' temple wash away in the driving
|
|
rain. He had judged the blow of the knife hilt properly: hard enough to
|
|
render Nikkeus unconscious, not hard enough to kill the young man.
|
|
Everything was going smoothly. He had lured Nikkeus to the roof,
|
|
and had taken his place. The others would be up at any moment, and the
|
|
rites could begin. All he needed to do was take up his place by the
|
|
table, standing in for Nikkeus in the ceremony, and wait.
|
|
Orlebb took a step and looked down at the splashing sound he made.
|
|
The drainage up here wasn't as good as it should have been. He took a
|
|
moment to stoop over Nikkeus and turn the young man onto his back.
|
|
Another lightning flash revealed Nikkeus' pretty face framed by blond
|
|
hair. "I'm sorry, but it all will be well very soon," he whispered to
|
|
the unconscious young man.
|
|
Orlebb walked over to the table and the talisman and stepped up
|
|
onto the low pile of lumber he had placed on one side of the table. When
|
|
he was on top of the lumber, he gained the two inches that Nikkeus had
|
|
on him. Next, he fished a small wooden token out of his belt pouch and
|
|
looked at it. It was a flat oval etched with runes of a sort that he
|
|
wagered no one in this keep could read, except for himself. He touched
|
|
the token to the blood that was still on his knife hilt, and then placed
|
|
the wooden oval into his mouth. He clamped it between his teeth, closed
|
|
his lips over the outer edge, and touched his tongue to the inner edge.
|
|
Then he subvocalized, concentrating on the token, and the words, "Time
|
|
to begin." issued from his closed mouth in the exact tones of Nikkeus.
|
|
Lastly, he pulled the hood of the robe up to cover his face.
|
|
Fortunately, Nikkeus didn't wear rings, and with the rain and the
|
|
clouds, and the dim lantern light, he was pretty sure that the others
|
|
weren't going to be able to tell that his hands weren't quite as
|
|
long-fingered and graceful as the musician's.
|
|
Now all he could do was wait. His plans were finally working out.
|
|
Nothing could go wrong. The page he had signaled downstairs would climb
|
|
to the sixth floor when her sand-glass ran out and inform the residents
|
|
of the master suite that Nikkeus was ready on the roof for them. She
|
|
would also inform them of the weather, and tell them to bring cloaks.
|
|
Then all that would remain would be some blessings and the
|
|
invocation, and the group binding would be finished. And he knew that
|
|
the results would surprise everyone involved. Except him, of course.
|
|
The door across from him opened, and the remaining two members of
|
|
the group stepped out onto the rooftop platform. Their greetings to the
|
|
one they thought was Nikkeus were drowned out by another clap of thunder
|
|
that followed almost on the heels of a bolt of lightning striking the
|
|
ocean.
|
|
The thunder also drowned out the laughter that Orlebb couldn't
|
|
suppress. Soon, soon, soon!
|
|
|
|
Eldinan felt well rested and relaxed as she sat in the main room of
|
|
their quarters that evening. Her state made her feel a hint of guilt,
|
|
since Nikk hadn't taken the break he said he would, and so must still be
|
|
down stairs working on the talisman. But when she had started fumbling
|
|
with the precisely crafted glass pieces, and had actually dropped one --
|
|
it hadn't been damaged -- she decided that she was in no shape to
|
|
continue the delicate work required. Kendil had agreed, but Nikk assured
|
|
them that he had the stamina to continue. She knew about his stamina, so
|
|
she reluctantly left him to work, returning to their bedroom with Kendil
|
|
and falling almost instantly asleep.
|
|
Kendil had just finished dressing and joined her in front of the
|
|
fireplace. She snuggled up next to him and just sat that way for a bit,
|
|
excitement building inside her at the impending event. Finally, she
|
|
said, "It is getting pretty close to time for the ceremony, don't you
|
|
think? Nikkeus hasn't returned -- I hope he has finished by now."
|
|
Kendil kissed her forehead, and said, "Of course he has. It just
|
|
took longer than expected. We should probably head down there to make
|
|
sure, and help get everything ready upstairs."
|
|
Eldinan nodded and was just rising when a knock came at their door.
|
|
Kendil called out, "Yes?"
|
|
The door opened, and a young page was standing there. She said,
|
|
"Nikkeus sent me to tell you that everything is ready upstairs, and to
|
|
come up. He also said that it is raining and chilly, and to be sure to
|
|
bring your cloaks. Thank you." And she turned and left.
|
|
Eldinan looked at Kendil with astonishment, and said, "Our boy's
|
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been busy, hasn't he? How nice that he took care of everything. I guess
|
|
his stamina really was up to it." Kendil laughed in response, and they
|
|
both fetched their cloaks and started for the stairs.
|
|
Two flights up from their sixth floor quarters they came to the end
|
|
of the stairs and the door to the roof. Kendil opened it and they
|
|
stepped through into a dark, stormy night. In the center of the watch
|
|
platform that occupied the top of the Green Tower was a low table, upon
|
|
which rested the completed talisman. The light from three lanterns set
|
|
against the parapet of the platform was just enough to illuminate the
|
|
scene, and even from over here the talisman looked fantastic. Also
|
|
revealed was Nikk, standing on the opposite side of the talisman from
|
|
the stairway door. He wore a grey cloak, not his usual one, draped over
|
|
his frame, its hood up and shadowing his face completely.
|
|
Eldinan waved and called a greeting, but her words were drowned out
|
|
by a clap of thunder that followed hard on the heels of a huge bolt of
|
|
lightning that slashed down out over the ocean behind Nikk. As the
|
|
rolling boom faded away, she and Kendil walked over to the table. She
|
|
stood at the side of the talisman which bore the two falcons that
|
|
represented her, and stared down at the thing of beauty the three of
|
|
them had created. She reached out and traced the bands, especially the
|
|
glass band, the one that hadn't been finished when she had gone to bed.
|
|
It was finished now, those last few segments just as perfect as all the
|
|
other ones that had been crafted and fitted over the last two weeks. But
|
|
the final product was definitely worth the effort -- it was magnificent!
|
|
Another bolt of lightning flashed, not quite as close, and Eldinan
|
|
looked around. From the center of the tower nothing was visible but
|
|
distant flashes of lightning -- she knew she was standing on the tallest
|
|
thing around. Eldinan asked, "Do you think this is totally safe?"
|
|
Kendil shrugged, and said, "It should be. The lightning wards
|
|
should be in place. Orlebb might be a number of unsavory things, but he
|
|
is certainly efficient when it comes to taking care of this keep. A
|
|
lightning strike up here might not start a fire, but it could still do
|
|
significant damage to the structure of the tower. He must have had the
|
|
wards activated as soon as the storm approached."
|
|
"Ah ..." said Nikk, sounding nervous. Then he continued, "Right.
|
|
Still, we should hurry. It is cold ..."
|
|
Eldinan laughed and said, "That it surely is. And I'll feel safer
|
|
back in our quarters, wards or no. Is everyone ready?"
|
|
They each reached down and touched a hand to each of their totem
|
|
beasts, then nodded. Eldinan began chanting the traditional words of
|
|
invocation, words that had been said over krovelathads for centuries.
|
|
She forgot about the lightning flashing around her, and the chill wind
|
|
trying to bite through her cloak. The two people standing around her
|
|
were all that mattered just now, that and the bond they were cementing
|
|
here, and the relationship that had grown over the past months to this
|
|
milestone.
|
|
She finished with, "In the name, and under the eyes, of Reesera,
|
|
god of love, I pledge my life and love, from this day forward, to both
|
|
of you. Kendil, Nikkeus, by virtue of our love and through this
|
|
krovelathad, you both become part of me from this day, until there are
|
|
no more tomorrows."
|
|
She looked at her two lovers, her two loves, and smiled. And then
|
|
she looked down at the talisman, and gasped when she saw that her
|
|
falcons were glowing, as were the glass segments of the knot-work band
|
|
that stretched from one raptor to the other. Purple light that sometimes
|
|
flickered to red or blue shone along the winding, weaving trail around
|
|
the disk of the talisman, and the falcons themselves radiated a faint
|
|
greenish-yellow light.
|
|
This certainly wasn't a normal part of a krovelathan ceremony!
|
|
|
|
Kendil listened to Eldinan recite her part of the ceremony, and the
|
|
faintly queasy sensation in his stomach that he had felt in anticipation
|
|
of this bonding faded away. It was the right thing to do. The three of
|
|
them belonged together. They were already bonded; this ceremony just
|
|
made it official, as far as that was possible, considering the nature of
|
|
what they were doing and how it ran against tradition and law. But it
|
|
was official to him, anyway.
|
|
Elin pledged her life to him and Nikk, and then her falcons and
|
|
glass band began to glow. They shouldn't have done that! The talisman
|
|
hadn't been given any inherent magic. Then again, some of the odds and
|
|
ends that had gone into its making might have been magical, and Elin's
|
|
anhekova was made of an innately magical substance, even if it no longer
|
|
had any powers.
|
|
But to stop now would mean that the ceremony was broken, and he
|
|
didn't want that. So, Kendil started reciting his part of the ritual.
|
|
The words flowed, and their familiar nature calmed and soothed him.
|
|
He came to the last words, and said, "In the name, and under the
|
|
eyes, of Reesera, god of love, I pledge my life and love, from this day
|
|
forward, to both of you. Nikkeus, Eldinan, by virtue of our love and
|
|
through this krovelathad, you both become part of me from this day,
|
|
until there are no more tomorrows."
|
|
And his two foxes began to glow with the yellowish green light,
|
|
while his goldish, brassish band began to glitter and sparkle as if the
|
|
metal was glowing.
|
|
Kendil barely had time to register and react to this change in the
|
|
talisman before Nikk began to speak. Kendil stared at the gold band
|
|
circling around the talisman, and the glass band where it glowed in its
|
|
path. Where the gold and glass bands crossed, there was an odd
|
|
combination of glows that resulted in a different color, a combination
|
|
of red-purple and gold-yellow that wasn't a color he could name, but
|
|
that looked very pleasing to his eye.
|
|
And slowly, he realized that something was wrong. Something seemed
|
|
... different, not as it should be. Kendil concentrated on the words
|
|
that Nikk was saying -- maybe the musician had misremembered something.
|
|
And as he concentrated on the words coming from Nikk, he slowly realized
|
|
what was so strange.
|
|
It was a subtle thing, but for some reason he was sure about what
|
|
he was hearing. The voice was Nikk's, but the style of speaking was not.
|
|
The way the words were inflected, the pronunciation, the *accent* ...
|
|
were Orlebb's!
|
|
The ersatz Nikk was almost finished with his part of the ceremony
|
|
by the time Kendil came to this realization. He was saying, "In the
|
|
name, and under the eyes, of Reesera, I pledge my life and love, from
|
|
this day forward, to all of you. Eldinan, Kendil, Nikkeus, through this
|
|
krovelathad, you all become part of me from this day, until there are no
|
|
more tomorrows."
|
|
Several things happened almost at once: Nikkeus' section of the
|
|
talisman began to glow, the two cats a greenish yellow, the grey metal
|
|
band gaining a peculiar cold luster; the hood of Nikk's robe blew back
|
|
in a gust of wind, revealing not the blond Nirmalel face of the musician
|
|
but the squarer, raven-haired and moustached, pale face of Orlebb; and a
|
|
groan was heard, carried perhaps by that gust of wind, coming from the
|
|
direction of the stair hood.
|
|
And as the realization of what had happened sank into Kendil while
|
|
he stared in shock at the blue and brown eyes of the Cherisk native, a
|
|
lightning bolt struck the center of the glowing talisman.
|
|
|
|
The rat reached the top of the tower and scurried from the drain
|
|
pipe into the rain, cold, and noise. People were talking, but that
|
|
didn't bother it. It knew that if it was careful, the people would never
|
|
see it.
|
|
It made its way around the tower by following the wall, sliding
|
|
through the shadows there with ease. It came to a lantern and climbed up
|
|
over it, rather than move in front of the beam of light and cast a
|
|
shadow.
|
|
It happened to be looking toward the center of the rooftop, where
|
|
the three people were standing around a table, when the lightning bolt
|
|
hit. It saw the way the bolt caused the thing on the table to glow
|
|
fiercely. It saw the tiny bolts that leapt from the thing to each of the
|
|
three people standing around it, making them glow as well. It also saw
|
|
the fourth tiny bolt that snaked off to one side, striking a person that
|
|
was beginning to sit up behind the stair hood.
|
|
Then, it saw the object on the table fragment into six pieces,
|
|
which flared an intense blue and vanished. Moments later, the four
|
|
glowing people also vanished. The thunderclap that followed was so loud
|
|
that it just overwhelmed the rat, which raced for the drain pipe and
|
|
vanished back down it.
|
|
|
|
The lightning strike could be heard by everyone in any proximity to
|
|
the keep. The people in the krovelathan ceremony circle outside the
|
|
village looked up, eyes drawn by the flash of the explosion atop the
|
|
seaside tower of the keep.
|
|
When those guests reached the tower, they first noticed that the
|
|
lightning wards had not been set. Upon reaching the top of the tower,
|
|
all that they saw was an empty watch platform, three glowing lanterns,
|
|
and some charred sticks of wood that had been the legs of the table. But
|
|
there was nothing else to be found; no talisman, no bodies, nothing.
|
|
Which left no clues for the mystery of the disappearance of the
|
|
castellan, Captain Eldinan, Alkant Kendil, and Terant Nikkeus.
|
|
|
|
At the moment that the lightning bolt hit the talisman, six people
|
|
around the world were struck by a prophetic vision. In the midst of
|
|
their fits, they each came out with the same words. "The three make the
|
|
one, which then binds the four. Cataclysm falls, and the one becomes
|
|
six. The six must be one again; to this are the four yet bound. Only
|
|
when six is one will four be none."
|
|
Four of these prophets were alone at the time of their vision, and
|
|
so it was lost. The recordist of another jotted the words down on a
|
|
parchment, but did not live to produce an official copy, and the
|
|
parchment was scraped and reused, destroying the record.
|
|
The last prophet's words were properly recorded, and transferred to
|
|
an official scroll, which was then filed to be distributed to the other
|
|
churches for study. But before that could happen, the village wherein
|
|
that church resided was attacked and burned, and with it the document.
|
|
And so the prophecy was lost.
|
|
|
|
A moment after the lightning bolt struck the talisman, the
|
|
cwicustan crystals atop six anhekovel around the world flared with a
|
|
bright light briefly. When the flash faded, each anhekova had, lying
|
|
beside it or near it, a roughly wedge-shaped piece of carved and inlaid
|
|
stone.
|
|
Only one of these occurrences was noted as it happened, but the old
|
|
drunk in his shack full of odds and ends was never believed when he told
|
|
his story.
|
|
|
|
Approximately nine months after the lightning bolt struck the
|
|
talisman, there began a series of four births over two months in a small
|
|
village in the south of the continent of Cherisk. The first one born had
|
|
one blue eye and one brown eye. The next happy parents' child was blond,
|
|
with grass-green eyes and what promised to be a prominent nose. The next
|
|
baby born had brown hair and eyes, and a somewhat swarthy complexion.
|
|
And the fourth birth resulted in a child with chestnut hair and grey
|
|
eyes.
|
|
The blond child died within a week, having been sickly from birth.
|
|
About nine months later, in a town two hundred miles east along the
|
|
coast of Cherisk, a baby was born with blond hair, grass green eyes, and
|
|
what would one day be a prominent nose.
|
|
The baby girl with black hair and the mismatched eyes died in an
|
|
accident when she was five. Nine months later, in the imperial city of
|
|
Frethemak, a baby was born to a very happy couple. It had black hair,
|
|
and one blue eye and one brown eye.
|
|
|
|
========================================================================
|
|
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