Shifting Stars, page 4
There was a third group known as druids, who were worried about draining inter-planar forces by either gods or mortals. However vast and immeasurable these forces might be, they were surely finite. What if those forces were weakened as a result? What if that caused the planes of reality to touch in ways they were never meant to? What if it was happening already? What if that was why their world was constantly assailed by demons? What if the growing use of inter-planar repulsion forces as magic was bringing the demon realms somehow closer, thereby making it easier for them to sort of jump or climb up or whatever it was demons did to get here?
Druids didn’t use those forces for their magic. Instead, they used the ‘Providence of Blessed Alycia, Mother of Nature’ – the ancient name for the kind of subtle energy that emanated from Tempestria itself. This kind of energy, they believed, actually healed the cosmos, replenishing that which wizards and clerics took for themselves. The drawback: it simply wasn’t as powerful, and so it never caught on except in the areas of healing and garden maintenance. Most druids did not seek to stop the other two flavours being used. They simply sought a state of balance where their magic could effectively recycle that which the others used. Unfortunately, no-one had found a way to make druid magic work in a way that could even remotely achieve this. In fact, it was generally believed to be impossible.
Catriona knew better. She had seen it. What her Angel did on that fateful day was unlike anything wizards or clerics could achieve. Others might think it was an inexplicable miracle, but to her, the explanation was simple: druid magic, and she wanted to learn how it was done. It became her personal quest, for which her only lead was the staff. It didn’t matter if others told her it was an ‘unhealthy obsession borne out of grief and loss.’ It didn’t matter if nobody else thought her Angel was real. Catriona knew better.
What hurt the most was the pity she would see on the faces of people she knew. Sympathy for the ‘poor young woman’ who had lost everything…including her mind. Still, she would not be swayed from her chosen course. It was her life, and if her parents had taught her anything, it was that she was damn well going to live it her way.
There was, of course, one other individual who Cat knew could most likely back up her ‘version of events’ as people liked to call it: Michael. Needless to say, though, he didn’t get out much, and he was currently unavailable, on account of having died in Daelen’s latest Final Battle against Kullos. Which she felt was as inconvenient for her as she supposed it was for him to be stuck in his Deepest Slumber. It wasn’t as if she could roll up to the front door of his tomb and knock very loudly until he woke up. For one thing, Daelen StormTiger had set up defences that, given the shadow warrior’s power, she could not hope to counter. Besides, regardless of anything she might do, Michael would Sleep until the Time of Greatest Need and clearly, helping Catriona Redfletching did not count. Which once again left her with her staff.
She began to research both its security and its history – something that took her time away from what her college tutors kept telling her she ought to be studying. She often wondered how they could possibly believe they knew better than her what she ‘ought’ to be studying.
*****
One day, her class had a visitor in the form of the head of the Black robe mages, Laethyn. He was there to talk about the history of wizard magic. In days gone by, Cat conceded she would have been interested. Now all she felt was irritation. Where was the talk on the history of druid magic? Even when Laethyn waved the famous Nameless Book in the air, Catriona barely raised an eyebrow.
The Nameless Book, gentle reader, was neither nameless nor a book.
OK, in the most basic sense, it was a book, but in another way – given the layers upon layers of magical protection that prevented it from being opened – it was the most heavily fortified installation of magic ever constructed. As for the title, it was only Nameless in the sense that nobody knew what it was called, because it was written in a completely unknown language. According to legend, the book had been the work of Magias, the first wizard, based on the evidence of dating techniques applied to the book itself. It was the closest thing that secular wizard society had to a sacred religious artefact. According to tradition, Laethyn would keep possession of the Nameless Book until he retired, at which time he would pass it on to either the Red or White leader, depending on which of them had seniority.
Catriona was sitting too far away to make any significant observations beyond a mild surprise that a book that was supposedly almost a thousand years old should be in such good condition. Still, modern magic had developed remarkable preservation techniques, so it was no great mystery. The students, in general, were not allowed to touch the precious object or even get close. As if breathing on it might somehow cause damage to something that was unmarked by the passage of centuries.
Despite her general disinterest, though, the college did have resources that my mother thought might be useful to her, so she continued to attend and do just enough to keep from being removed from classes entirely.
Information on her staff was extremely hard to come by. Cat chased many a wild goose down many a dead end, but little by little she found references to help her. Through a combination of obscure books, tenacious research and experimentation, her druid magic began to grow, and she unlocked the first layer of her staff’s protection.
One of her favourite things she learned, gentle reader, was shapeshifting magic. It involved the careful manipulation of her body and what we would these days call her genetic structure, although that knowledge was unknown at that time in my mother’s life, and I’m sure she never thought about it in those terms. Mostly, druid magic works on knowledge, instinct and a strong belief that you can do what you are trying to do. Almost as if one is talking to Blessed Alycia herself and explaining what you’re trying to achieve, and no matter how clumsy one’s explanation might be, if you have the right attitude, she seems to smile upon the druid, and it happens. As knowledge and understanding grow, however, the magic becomes easier and more controlled.
Catriona’s favourite form quickly became that of a red-banded falcon, so named for the pair of red stripes that encircled its legs. Now, there is no such thing as a red-banded falcon, but the red bands helped to serve as an anchor to her true self, linking in her mind with her name and of course her mother’s: Redfletching. Flying was undeniably a fast and convenient way to travel, but the problem she had was how to carry her staff around with her. There was no way she would leave it anywhere – it never left her side. Here, her decision to keep her foot in the door at wizarding college paid dividends as she became interested in a course on Advanced Dimensional Harmonics.
These days, gentle reader, what she learned would be considered Basic Misconceptions in Dimensional Harmonics, but that’s progress for you! Still, through creative combinations of this course material with her own independent study and druid magic, she found a way to put her staff, her clothes and anything else her half-Faery self might need in a kind of pocket dimension, such that it was always effectively right next to her, within reach, no matter where she was. It was crude, it was tiring, and it was unstable, causing her belongings to fall out of her pocket dimension at inconvenient times…or even fall in, sometimes leading to her find herself suddenly naked with her backpack on her head.
OK, I’m being flippant again, but I certainly don’t mean to mock. All the techniques we take for granted today had to start somewhere, and my mother was a pioneer in this field…just sometimes a naked pioneer. But I digress.
By now, gentle reader, you must be wondering what all this has to do with Catriona’s conversation with that old White wizard recluse. Well, as I have said, my mother was obsessed with researching her Crystal Mage Staff. She would pursue tenaciously any strand of a clue, and one such strand led her to believe that the wizard Renjaf had in his possession, a particular book that other references had hinted contained such information. Yes, I know that’s a bit tentative, but it was good enough for my mother, so she went to see him.
The problem with this idea lies in the word ‘recluse.’
Renjaf was one of those people who simply didn’t have much use for other people and would prefer to be left alone. He was a grumpy old man with poor eyesight and terrible manners.
*****
The door was yanked open, suddenly.
“Who are you?” a scowling, squinting Renjaf snarled before Cat could get a word in. “You don’t look like my usual delivery boy!”
“Oh, no,” she giggled. “I’m sure I don’t! In fact, I’m quite glad I don’t look like him. Not that there’s anything wrong with how he looks, as far as I know. I just don’t really want to look like a boy at all.” She giggled again. “And I’m afraid I don’t have any delivery to give you. In fact, I want to get something from you. I—”
He slammed the door in her face. She knocked again and the door opened.
“Sorry, bit nervous,” she said. “Short version: all I want is a book.”
“A book?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “Specifically, something called Shifting Stars; it’s pretty rare from what I gather. In fact, you have the only copy as far as I can tell. You see, I have this staff,” she held it up to show him.
He tried to slam the door again, but Cat was quicker and shoved her staff in the door.
“Please, let just let me pop in and borrow the book and I’ll be out of your hair. I’ve been working on a locator spell that should be able to find a specific title pretty quickly. Or you can get the book, if that’s easier – although, given your eyesight, I’m not sure it would be, no offence. Can you still read, these days? Either way, your hair will be free of me.”
“Go away!” he yelled.
“Not until I get that book,” Cat insisted. “Sorry, but it’s really important to me. Look, I’ll pay you for it,” she offered.
“Don’t want your money.”
“Alright then, I’ll trade you for it! Anything you want. Name it, and I’ll get it for you.”
“Don’t want anything from you! I just want you gone!”
“Oh, come on!” Catriona pleaded. “It’s not like I’m asking for the moon! Actually, I’ll give you the moon if that’s what you want. I mean, I’m not exactly sure how I’d do it, but that’s not the point. The point is I’m willing to give you the moon if you’ll just give me what I want. A moon for a book – that’s not a bad deal! Please just let me have it.”
By the way, gentle reader, if you were wondering where I get my tendency to ramble, I trust that question has now been answered to your satisfaction.
Forcing herself to calm down, Catriona asked, simply, “Why not? Just tell me that. What would it cost you just to let me borrow one book?”
“Nothing,” Renjaf said. “Just don’t care.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I don’t and never ever will care! My whole life nobody ever did a damn thing for me, so why should I do anything for anybody else?”
Cat was so stunned by that response that she involuntarily stepped back and relaxed her grip on her staff. The wizard kicked it out of her grasp, and it skittered down the path, forcing her to scamper after it. Renjaf waited until she retrieved it and ran back, and then deliberately slammed the door in her face. Cat yelped in pain, her eyes watering. Just a bit more force and he could easily have broken her nose. In fact, she wasn’t altogether sure he hadn’t been trying.
Still, she refused to get angry.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr Renjaf,” Cat said to the closed door, “but one way or another I’m getting that book. Tell you what: I will do something for you! I’ll…I don’t know…” she paused to consider.
As she looked around for inspiration, she could see how the grounds were grown wild and out of control. It seemed to Cat that it wouldn’t be long before Renjaf’s delivery boy would have to bring an axe to cut his way through a forest just to reach the door.
“I’ll work on your garden!” she declared, triumphantly. “I’m a druid – druid magic is great for garden maintenance!”
Still no response.
She had no idea if he could still hear her, but it didn’t matter – even with his bad eyesight, he’d be able to see the results soon enough.
And so, Catriona spent all of her free time for the next few days, tidying and reshaping the land, gathering up fallen leaves and branches, removing the moss from paths, cleaning up the overgrown pond she had discovered, and encouraging flowers to grow.
Then, one day, as she was regrowing the wooden fence that surrounded the property, the delivery boy turned up with a horse and cart decked out in a distinctive blue and white company livery. The gate wasn’t wide enough for his transport, so he dismounted. The boy began to struggle up the long path on foot, armed with a load of heavy groceries and Catriona saw an opportunity.
Chapter 5
As I gaze through Time, gentle reader, I can watch my mother living her life. I’ve done that for a long, long time. Ever since I first discovered that I could manipulate the temporal dimensions in this way. Given this ability, you might expect me to watch the major events for which she is renowned: her roles in the Fall of Kullos, establishing the Guardianship, battling demons, defeating an Angel. But often, I get the greatest joy from her, shall we say, less than stellar moments. They make me feel better about my own mistakes, mishaps and misunderstandings. Perhaps my favourite of these is the story of ‘The Cat Who Smelled of Horse.’
*****
Catriona immediately rushed over to give the delivery boy a helping hand.
“Hi,” she said, “I’d shake your hand, but you don’t seem to have one free. If I can take some of that stuff for you, then you will.”
“Oh, thanks a lot, miss…?” he replied, handing out some of the bags.
“I’m Catriona,” she said, shaking his now free hand, “but you can call me Cat because we’re friends now.”
“Jacob,” he said, returning the handshake, “and that’s Bonnie,” he added, indicating his horse. “So, Cat, what brings you out here? I’ve never seen anybody visit old Renjaf before. Are you a relative?”
“Oh no,” she said. “I’m just helping out, you know, tidying up the grounds and making sure your deliveries get through.”
Jacob looked around in amazement. “Is all this you?”
She nodded. “Yep, all me. Been busy.”
“I can see that. Well, you’ve certainly made my job easier, so thanks for that.”
“No problem, it’s a public service.”
“I’m sure the old guy will appreciate it.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Cat agreed. “So, if I were to ask him for one teeny, tiny little thing in return, like, say, I don’t know, just for instance, a book. That would be perfectly reasonable, right?”
“A book?”
“I’ll explain later,” she said. “For now, let’s just deliver these groceries!”
She gave him an enthusiastic punch on the shoulder and regretted it instantly when he looked at her strangely.
They had reached the door by now and, trying to cover her embarrassment, she cleared her throat and asked, “Do you want to knock or shall I?”
Jacob did it himself.
“How does this work?” Cat asked. “We go inside and drop all this off in his kitchen, or something?”
Jacob laughed, “No, I leave it just inside the door.”
That wasn’t as good as Cat had hoped, but still, it was inside the tower, which was closer than she had been so far.
When the moment came, however, the wizard only let Jacob inside, using his magic to keep Catriona on the doorstep while snatching the bags from her hand.
Doing her best to seize the moment, she said, “Jacob here was just saying he thought I’d done a good job with your grounds, Mr Renjaf, and he thought it would be pretty reasonable if you were to give me that book I wanted, in return.”
“Well, I didn’t exactly—” Jacob began, but Cat shushed him to cut him off.
“So, what do you say? Deal?”
Renjaf’s response, gentle reader, was something rude and offensive that I see no need to write here. Suffice to say, as Jacob stepped back outside and began to head back down the path, Catriona was left once again staring at the door, frustrated, hands on hips.
Not one to give up, though, a new approach formulated in her mind. After all, there was clearly at least one person who was allowed inside Renjaf’s door. If she could just get where Jacob had been a moment ago, she would need only a moment longer to get what she wanted.
“So, Mr Renjaf,” she muttered to herself, quietly, “I don’t look like your usual delivery boy, eh? Well, I’ll just have to see what I can do about that.”
Calling out to the delivery boy, she asked, “Jacob, where are you off to now?”
“Back to Compton,” he replied.
“Great! Any chance of a lift?”
“Sure,” he shrugged. “No problem.”
“Excellent, thanks,” she said, linking arms with Jacob as they walked back down the path. Jacob seemed surprised but didn’t object. “So, tell me about yourself: do you come this way often…”
During the ride back to the town, Catriona flirted shamelessly with Jacob, learning everything she needed to know to pull off her plan. Studying his face, his body, his voice, committing it all to memory. She found out that Renjaf’s deliveries mostly ran to a specific schedule, and so Jacob would be out that way again in just a few days. Catriona got him to agree to her joining him, on the pretext of her doing more work on the grounds in hopes of gaining Renjaf’s favour. Of course, she didn’t really need any help getting out there, her falcon form being much quicker than any horse, but he didn’t need to know that. That’s how Catriona got there over the next few days, to work on the grounds some more. She brought Renjaf bottles of wine, chocolates, pastries from the bakery, anything she could think of to persuade him to change his mind, but nothing moved him, so her plan went ahead.
