Shifting Stars, page 12
In time, she grew to be the second-ranked Black robe wizard, which gave her a loud voice on the Council – necessary for some of the reforms and changes she had in mind – but without the excessive administration of the highest position. Dreya wasn’t overly keen on the head of her order, Laethyn, but she was confident she would find a way to gain enough influence over him to serve her purposes. Her opportunity came when she saved him from an assassination attempt.
“An act of kindness from Dreya the Dark?” Laethyn wondered, afterwards, when they were together in his office within the Council building.
“I wish people would stop accusing me of that,” Dreya muttered in annoyance. “No, I saved you to demonstrate that I have the power of life and death over you. You live only because it suits me. At the same time, I am showing you that I do not want your job. If I did, it would be mine now, and you would be dead.”
“So, what exactly does Dreya the Dark want of me?” Laethyn asked.
“Most of the time you can keep doing as you wish, but your voice carries a lot of weight on the Council, and there will be times when I want your voice to support my position, to make sure I get things done around here.”
“Is that all?”
“No, there’s one more thing: Don’t pick fights. If you think I’m going to rush by to save your life from something you bring on yourself, think again. The infighting has to stop. Pursue your own agenda as much as you like but do it without weakening Dark magic or any other magic for that matter.”
“That’s just not how things are done, especially in our order.”
Dreya invoked her magic to choke him, slowly, cutting through his defences like they weren’t there.
“It is now,” she said menacingly. She released him. “Are we in agreement?”
Gasping for breath and rubbing his neck, Laethyn nodded.
“But why are you doing this?” he asked. “I’ve heard you want to be known as the Greatest Mage Who Ever Lived.”
“I do,” she affirmed. “But I want that to mean something. Look at it this way,” she said. “Suppose I wanted to be the world’s greatest mathematician: That doesn’t mean I want to live in a world where nobody else can add two and two!
“Don’t you see?” she cried, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. It was a rare show of emotion for her. She was just desperate for one other person to understand what she was trying to achieve. “This is too easy! I could kill you with a single thought, but what’s the point?” she demanded. “What do I gain? Your title? Your rank? Your office? They mean nothing to me! Even Ulvarius – Tyrant of Tempestria, Scourge of Elvaria – his grounds, his defences, the lich form of the man himself were dust beneath my feet. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed claiming his Tower – my home is everything I could wish for, but seriously, Scourge of Elvaria?” Dreya snorted, derisively, collapsing in a chair, breathing heavily – she wasn’t used to this. “He might as well be called the Menace of Mrs Miggins’ Pie Shop for all the threat he was to me! Tell me honestly, can you think of a single mage anywhere in the world who could at least offer me a challenge?”
“Quite frankly, no,” Laethyn admitted, grudgingly.
“Exactly, so clearly I need to look beyond this world.”
“Other worlds?” Laethyn said, incredulously. “Do you really believe they exist?”
“An interesting thought,” Dreya conceded, “and one worth exploring, but right now I have my mind on higher things.”
“Higher things?” Laethyn wondered, then he gasped. “You mean…higher planes?”
“Well, I don’t want to go there,” she said with a wry smile. “I’m not a tourist, but I do want their power. Moreover, I want this world to stand up to those creatures. They come here and fight their battles and don’t care how much damage is done in the process. Aren’t you sick of it? Don’t you want to do something about it?”
Laethyn snorted. “What? You want to save the world now?”
Dreya jumped to her feet like she’d been bitten. “No, I don’t want to save the world!” she cried, giving Laethyn a disgusted look. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then what?” Laethyn wondered.
“I want to kill Daelen StormTiger.”
*****
Dreya had long been envious of the shadow warriors’ power, gentle reader, even as she railed against the seemingly indiscriminate way in which they used it.
I know my father himself felt as if he were stuck in a loop. Battle after battle he fought, with always the same result: He was evenly matched against his enemy, but Michael always gave Daelen an edge. Enough to beat back his enemy, but only temporarily. It seemed as if nothing would ever break this cycle, but Daelen did not count on one thing: Tempestria was changing, growing, developing.
Mortal magic was out of its infancy now, gentle reader. By the time of Catriona, Mandalee and Dreya, they had already abandoned crawling in favour of walking. In their different ways, each of them had started to run, and soon, very soon…
…they would learn to fly.
Chapter 15
“I’m flying!” Mandalee cried, laughing in joy and exhilaration.
“See, I told you it would work!” Cat called back from her vantage point, sitting on a cloud.
“Remind me never to doubt you again,” the White cleric replied.
“Oh, doubt me all you want,” her friend countered, “I do! I just see it as a challenge to do it anyway.”
“In that case,” Mandalee replied, “remind me to challenge you as often as possible because this is amazing! I… AM… FLYING! Woohoo!”
*****
Technically, gentle reader, Mandalee was not really flying. She was actually sitting on the back of a giant albatross, and it was flying, but that’s just semantics. As for my mother, ‘sitting on a cloud’ isn’t just a metaphor, though it would be an accurate one. She had been working on her druid magic and realised that if she could change the density enough, it would be possible to walk on air. (Again, not a metaphor.) Cat thought it was a better approach than trying to levitate. Floating around would be so undignified. Of course, she could just change into a red-banded falcon, or a tawny owl, which was another thing she’d recently added to her repertoire, but then she couldn’t talk. Sympathic communication had its limitations. The other advantage of being in midair in her natural half-Faery form was that she could bring Pyrah along, whenever she was visiting her half-Faery friend.
To say Pyrah ‘wasn’t keen’ on being stuck in a pocket dimension at Catriona’s slightest whim, would be a gross understatement. Not that she was that much happier being in midair. Honestly, Cat wouldn’t have believed it possible for anyone to complain so colourfully by sympathic means, but somehow Pyrah managed to get her point across…repeatedly.
My mother’s Conclave was a good eighteen months behind her now, and with no more college, after their success in tracking down the real Trickster in Compton, she had decided to join Mandalee full time, demon hunting. Jacob had been sad to see her go, but he had always known he could never tie her down. He wasn’t sure anybody ever would. (‘Tie her down’ is mostly a metaphor, although there had been a few occasions…)
*****
Demon hunting proved to be the perfect practical outlet for both young women to push the boundaries of their abilities, and sometimes my mother would come up with one of her ridiculous radical ideas. On this day, she reasoned that Mandalee’s special relationship with nature should surely extend beyond animals to birds. And if Mandalee could just befriend one that was large enough then, in effect, she would be able to fly.
Cat learned to adapt her access to her pocket dimension so that it would not be affected by Mandalee’s clerical magic, thereby avoiding any more clothing mishaps. She had also learned from her experience of being twice stuck in her friend’s traps, cut off from nature and therefore the source of her magic. She was determined never to let that happen again, especially when the solution was so simple: carry nature with her at all times. Since druid magic couldn’t create something directly from magic alone, she needed ingredients that she could manipulate. An extra bottle of water gave her access to any water or ice-based spells. A few herbs gave her control of plants, even when there were none around. She had also learned to carry a vial of sand from which to create what she called ‘Nature’s Mirror,’ for cosmetic purposes. To her, carrying a selection of small pebbles, weighing nothing at all, meant she had with her the potential for a boulder, a wall, an entire stone shelter, if necessary.
Perhaps the most important lesson she had learned was that, unlike wizard and clerical magic, for druids, size was unimportant for the most part. The scale of what she wanted to create made no difference. Just like in nature: the movement of a single pebble could start a landslide; a slight shift of snow could cause an avalanche; a single spark could lead to a forest fire.
An ice cube in her drink or a towering wall of ice; a potted plant or a towering tree – it was all the same to her. If Cat could provide the seeds, nature could deliver the garden. For the moment, she was wary of doing too much with fire-based spells, for fear of what she might unleash if her ambition outstripped her control. She also didn’t bother with any kind of animal control – that was more Mandalee’s field, although it wasn’t really control, but rather co-operation. Catriona’s interest in animals was mostly confined to shapeshifting into them. Wolf-form was her latest success, excellent for long-range land-based scouting and, if necessary, self-defence. She’d even dabbled with a mole form for burrowing underground. Mandalee couldn’t for the life of her imagine why her friend would want to do that.
In between demon hunts, the two young women pushed each other’s magical abilities. Mandalee would adapt her demon traps to try and counter Cat’s ability to escape, forcing Cat to think up a new way to get out. This helped the cleric adapt her magic again and that in turn, challenged Cat’s magical imagination once more. In addition to her magic, Cat pulled her archery skills out of mothballs. Mandalee was highly proficient both in hand-to-hand combat and with long-range weapons. In many ways, her fighting style reminded Cat of her mother, except that as much as her friend seemed to dance on the edge, she never crossed the line into a real battle frenzy. She always kept her head, even when she got very drunk. Long-range, it was a close call who was better, and as with their magic, the competition served to raise both their standards.
Council of Wizards rules allowed a mage to train with a single bladed weapon for defence purposes. Just in case they were ever in a situation where their magic wouldn’t work, such as in an anti-magic field. Cat had chosen the bow and arrow, which she still routinely carried in her pocket dimension.
Two things had started to bother my mother about the Council generally and the reason behind that rule specifically. In general, the name – Council of Wizards – had begun to feel pejorative. Druids were supposedly acknowledged by the Council and definitely subject to their laws, and yet still it was called the Council of Wizards. Not to mention the fact that many female wizards preferred ‘sorceress’ which, from a certain point of view, made the name sexist, as well.
As for that specific rule, the concept of an anti-magic field seemed bizarre to Catriona. She tried to explain her thoughts on this to Mandalee one day.
“Surely,” she said, “an anti-magic field is itself a form of magic. If magic doesn’t work within that field, then how does the field operate?”
Unfortunately, gentle reader, Aunt Mandalee was never much of a one for philosophy – she left that to Shyleen. Nor could she muster much enthusiasm for studying, unlike my mother. Conversely, Cat was no match for Mandalee at close range fighting – it wasn’t Catriona’s style. But diversity is strength, and it worked well for them. While Mandalee was training her body, Catriona was training her mind. She was still very much focussed on her staff, her Angel and of course Shifting Stars. Nor had she forgotten her promise to Mandalee. All of her fields of study were progressing – they were just progressing slowly.
Catriona had managed to get her hands on star charts from before what she had begun to refer to as ‘The Day of the Angel’ to try and distract herself from the fact that it was also ‘The Day of the Monster.’ The Monster that killed her parents. She had gained this knowledge from a couple of helpful mages who had an interest in astronomy. The wizard helped because he was afraid she would demolish his home if he didn’t. The sorceress simply wanted to exchange one book for another. A rare magical text she had been searching for. If there was one thing Cat was good at, it was sniffing out obscure references, so in this way, she fell into a new career as an information trader. Still, on a couple of occasions, she had needed to demolish the wizard’s tower to get what she wanted. She always gave them two chances to co-operate without punitive measures, but on her third visit, she would use any means necessary to keep them out of their home, so she could work her magic without harming them. And she always rebuilt their homes, afterwards.
So far, she’d confirmed that part of one constellation had definitely moved out of shape on ‘The Day of the Angel’ and another section had done so on at least one occasion described in Shifting Stars. She wasn’t yet ready to accept a causal relationship between that and her staff, but she was intrigued by the possibility, which spurred her on to solve more of the puzzles that allowed her to unlock another level of the security protecting the tantalising higher planar energy at its core. Not that she was especially interested in the power itself. Her fascination lay in the understanding of what it was, why it was so locked away and what knowledge she might gain not just from the final answer, but from the exploration.
Everything my mother learned, she kept in a journal. Although she always seemed to be quite capable of working on five different puzzles in her head, simultaneously, the very process of writing helped her. Putting pen to paper was something she enjoyed for its own sake. (Like mother, like daughter!) However, as someone who understood the value of knowledge, Cat had developed her own shorthand, which she never shared with anyone, not even Mandalee, ultimately taking the secret language to her grave. Much of her knowledge she shared, but because no-one could read her journals for themselves, she could be sure to do so on her own terms.
Still, even as Catriona had fun with her friend, there was a sense of frustration bubbling underneath. What she needed was a library. Books and resources all in one place. Ideally, one that had lain untouched for a century or two, so that she could research possible earlier sightings of her staff, her Angel and perhaps more shifting stars. It was a bit of an ask, but there was a solution. She’d thought of it some time ago; she’d just hoped to find another way. Unfortunately, the only other possibility was overseas, and she had not the means to get there. That left her with her original idea and her original problem: there was a wizard in the way. Or rather, a sorceress.
As I’ve said, gentle reader, that was familiar territory for her by now, but Catriona knew this mage would be unlike any she had faced before. Still, the only other choice was to give up…and that just wasn’t an option.
Even from her unfamiliar avian point-of-view, Mandalee could read her friend by now.
“Let’s land and talk,” she suggested.
Cat nodded and manipulated the air around her to create Windy Steps all the way to the ground, while Mandalee asked her albatross to glide down gently. Once on the ground, the bird flew away but promised to return whenever she called.
“Come on then, Cat,” said Mandalee as the pair sat down. “Out with it. You’ve got another of your ridiculous radical plans, haven’t you?”
Cat nodded.
“But this – whatever this is – is different, isn’t it?”
“What makes you think so?”
“You’re not happy about it.”
With a rueful smile, Cat replied, “You’re not going to be happy about it, either.
“OK, now I definitely need to know!”
Steeling herself, Catriona took a deep breath and said, “There’s only one place I can go, now, that could have what I need for my research. All my research. My staff, my Angel, my magic, the stars…” she looked her friend in the eye, “…you.”
“And that place is…?” Mandalee prompted.
“The Black Tower,” Cat stated, flatly.
“What!” Mandalee gasped. “You can’t possibly be serious!”
Cat insisted she was. “I told you, you wouldn’t like it!”
“You’re planning to go up against Dreya the Dark? There isn’t enough alcohol in the world to get me drunk enough to make that sound like a good idea!”
“It’s not a good idea,” Cat replied. “It’s just the only idea.”
“OK, let me get this straight. You’re going to – what – ask Dreya the Dark very nicely twice, and when she refuses, assuming the sorceress hasn’t killed you, you’re going to attack her and demolish the Black Tower itself?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Cat shook her head. “I’m not going to attack her; I’m desperate, not suicidal. No, I need to do something far more difficult: I need to impress Dreya the Dark.”
Mandalee snorted, “I don’t think Dreya the Dark does ‘impressed.’”
“That’s because she hasn’t met me, yet,” Cat replied.
“Oh!” Mandalee laughed. “So, because I fell for your charms after you blundered into my traps, you think Dreya’s going to do the same?”
