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With pleasantly stuffed bellies, we sipped hot tea and discussed where to meet Rivar. I said I was a little surprised she hadn't sent another messenger to us. The previous one had not wanted to return with news of Happy's departure. No one cared much, and we eventually selected an empty square in extremely depopulated corner of Orena. The next issue was convincing Rivar to meet us there.
While we discussed whether we could hire a messenger to deliver any message that demanded Rivar's presence, or, rather, discussed how one could possibly convince anyone to behave in such a suicidal manner, Alvare arrived at the inn. She wanted to know if we had any need for her. We stared at each other, and when no one else had the effrontery to suggest Alvare deliver the message, I told the demon what our plan was, and what we needed. Alvare agreed to tell Rivar we would meet her at the location we had indicated, about two hours before noon. We had over an hour to get ready.
It took us about fifteen minutes to walk to the square. In person, it was even more deserted than we had been told. Papers and other small debris fluttered along all the streets in the breeze. Larger debris blocked parts of the sidewalks and forced us to walk down the center of the road. Whatever food or other carrion might have been left by the departed had been picked over thoroughly by crows and other scavengers. One or two crows eyed us as we inspected the area, but we saw no rodents, and very little activity. Broken doors and shutters, and the occasional, literal, hole in the wall, suggested the area had seen fighting. One side of the square had been burned to the ground, leaving only a few supporting members as a twisted reminder that the heaps of ash had been a dwelling for some family, or had once housed some thriving enterprise. A few other buildings were partially burned, but someone had still been around to put those fires out, and had bothered to do so.
Human scavengers had picked over the unbroken, portable furnishings. We were able to find a few broken boxes and an extremely ugly bench which was missing a leg. We kicked the worst of the dirt and ash off, and used some of the boxes to prop up the bench. At least we'd have a place to sit and wait. If I'd thought of it, I might have left my journal at the inn, and carried a chair over instead. Our plan being one of erosion, not to say attrition, it was impossible to predict how long we would be in the square. Fortunately, Tzika had packed a hamper with provisions, including a lot of wine. She promised to check in on us in the afternoon, if we hadn't returned, to see if we wanted dinner brought out to us.
We settled in to await Rivar's arrival. We did not have to wait long. She arrived several minutes early, visibly livid with rage, her face contorted and red. Rather than telling us what in particular she was mad about, she began by throwing a fireball at us. It diffused around the shells protecting each of us, starting several small fires among the debris in the square. Fortunately, it did not start any building fires. We were waiting in front of the burned out buildings. That had been Jack's idea and it was a good one.
The ineffectiveness of her attack startled her. We did not react, other than to stomp out some of the flames which showed a tendency to do more than just smolder and die. We might be hard to hurt, but smoke does make the eyes smart, and over time, injures the lungs. She glared at us, and tossed an even larger one at us. Other than moving a bit quicker to put out the secondary fires, we did nothing. After all, our plan was to wear her down. We'd expected an opportunity to discuss matters before she attacked us, but I couldn't think of any reason to change tactics now, and no one suggested doing so.
The failure of the second either depleted her, or gave her furiously to think. I suspect a little of both, but rather than thinking, she screamed at us. I think what she said was, "Why did you kill my messenger?", but it was difficult to tell for sure. Alvin hollered back something like, "Sorry, what was that? We couldn't make it out." I thought at first she might toss something else our way, but she decided to walk closer instead. At about fifty paces, she stopped, and yelled, "What happened to my messenger?" I asked if she meant the one who had visited the inn the previous day. She replied affirmatively, needlessly adding several negative comments on our collective intelligence and speculating about our ancestry. Most of the party takes that kind of thing in stride. In my case, it's difficult to think of insults bad enough to be worse than what my mother actually was. Alvin, however, is unaccustomed to such rough talk, and surprised everyone by shifting (probably unconsciously) into dragon form. As he reared up on his back legs, extending his wings for balance and slashed in Rivar's direction with claws extending even as he swiped, Rivar backed away and apologized. Alvin folded his wings in, dropped back to all four paws and retracted his claws. Alvin might only be a teenage dragon, and a cerebral one at that, but messing with dragonkind takes strong nerves.
Rivar said yes, she meant the messenger she sent yesterday. She'd sent no further messengers because she hadn't cared to risk more. I felt that was a good sign; a truly heartless, inconsiderate woman would have happily sacrificed young men and women to her own curiosity. I said so, under my breath, but Jack heard me anyway and pointed out that it wasn't likely the goodness of her heart that stayed her command -- she didn't have that many messengers left and couldn't afford to lose more. Rivar had attempted to divine through magical means what we were doing, but encountered a cloudy obstacle to her attempts to see us magically. She had not attempted to find her messenger. I think Jack is about this woman's character.
We told Rivar that we'd done nothing to the messenger. I suggested she use her magical sight to see where he was. This had, for whatever reason, not occurred to her. She backed further away, around a corner, to cast her spell or pull out her mirror or whatever it was she used to scry. After about ten minutes, she returned, and said it looked like he'd high-tailed it south to Bol. She did not, I note, apologize to us for jumping to the wrong conclusion. She did, however, finally get around to asking why we wanted to meet with her.
Jack explained that we wanted the compulsion removed from around Orena. He did not explain that we had had contact with Alvare, or why we wanted the compulsion removed. We'd discussed what we should tell Rivar, and concluded that the simplest story would be best: tell nothing, other than our demand. Since we weren't going to negotiate the point, we did not complicate our interaction, which would ultimately be based in brute force anyway, if indirectly applied. Rivar said she wouldn't remove the compulsion, and waited for us to do something. We didn't. We weren't going to be doing anything. The question was, what would she do.
Rivar had a hard time with the situation. She stared at us all in turn. For one brief moment, I thought she was going to walk away and go about her business. That would have been unfortunate. If she had, we would have had to block her exit. However, her curiosity got the better of her, and she asked what we were going to do about the situation. In unison, those of us still in human form said, "Nothing." She said she was going to leave the compulsion in place. We said, "No, you won't."
I do not understand why Rivar didn't try to leave. Maybe she knew she wouldn't be allowed to. Maybe it didn't occur to her to try. Certainly leaving Orena had never occurred to her, not in years of strife and hardship, caught between warring empires each bent on benefiting from the prosperous town which straddled their lands. I was reminded of a time, when I was still a bard for that never-to-be-sufficiently-damned family. I'd been stuck minding the son of some visiting nobility. The brat had grabbed one of my books, and insisted it was his. I'd told him it was not; it was mine. He'd continued to say, "Mine!" intermittently for the next twenty minutes. He didn't try to leave the room. After round two, I ignored him. It kept him out of larger trouble, among other things. But on and off, until his father retrieved him, he had stood there, hugging the book, too large to carry in one hand, in a language he would never learn, about subjects he was unlikely ever to take an interest in, squawking, "Mine!" at irregular intervals. Of course when his father returned, the book was dropped and the brat went away. I desperately hoped this engagement would prove to be more entertaining and less annoying than that one.
After a few moments of silence, Rivar closed her eyes, concentrating on something. She hadn't done any concentrating prior to popping off the fireballs, so we awaited the outcome of this trance with great interest. The result was the precipitous arrival of Alvare. I resisted the temptation to wave hello. Rivar commanded Alvare to attack us. Alvare asked how. Rivar said she didn't care; just attack us. Alvare came over and started swatting at Alvin. Alvin looked at her. Alvare grew some claws and started scratching Alvin. Alvin rolled over onto his back, careful to avoid crushing Marion or any of the rest of us, and asked Alvare to scratch his belly. Alvare complied. Astrea wolf-whistled, and I think Alvin rolled his eyes suggestively, although that might have just been genuine enjoyment. It must be hard for dragons to get an itch scratched just the right way.
Rivar screamed again, and ordered Alvare to hurt us. Alvare stopped scratching Alvin's belly. After a moment, Alvin rolled back over. Alvare didn't do anything else, however. Rivar repeated her command, and Alvare said she could not comply. Rivar asked why, and Alvare said her powers were insufficient to the task. Infuriated, Rivar ordered Alvare to return to whatever she had been doing. For a brief moment, I expected Alvare to start scratching Alvin's belly again, but she disappeared -- literally and immediately. We waited, again for Rivar's next move.
Rivar looked up at the sky. The weather was partly cloudy. It didn't look like it would be raining soon. It was cool and there was a slight breeze. She looked at us and gestured. A rod of sunlight speared down, hitting Astrea. To give Astrea credit, she didn't even flinch, which amazed me, because if anything ought to strike fear into the heart of a vampire, or ex-vampire, or whatever it was Astrea had become, a bolt from the golden orb above should. Astrea, correctly, as it turned out, had faith in my protection. If you've ever seen a forceful, even, stream of water hit flat ground and splatter, you have a good idea of what happened here. The bolt splattered around, and if you looked closely, you could see it splashing off of the rest of us as well, a bright light playing across us, and nothing more.
Marion had become bored. Since she was one of the few of us confident she could inflict damage on Rivar without unintentionally killing her, she trotted over to Rivar. Rivar backed away. Marion followed, and for a moment or two, they chased and dodged around the square. But Marion is not easy to avoid. She leapt, catching Rivar in the chest, and knocked her over. Leroy hollered a reminder to be careful. A knock on the head can be fatal. Marion started licking Rivar's face. We approached, to make sure Rivar hadn't been injured. She looked fine, but before we could be sure, a massive explosion radiated out from her and we were all thrown back.
None of us were injured, of course, but we did have to pick ourselves up from the rubble, which had been pulverized from the blast. Marion was shaking the dust off herself. Rivar was standing where she had been sitting, glaring at us. She did not look surprised to discover we were all uninjured. Marion trotted back towards Rivar. Rivar pointed a finger at Marion, who was somersaulted several times through the air before crashing into a wall and sliding down it to the ground. I decided I was glad we'd talked Alvin out of his idea of flying up with Rivar in his grasp. Had he been knocked out of the sky by her, there's no telling where he would have landed, and how much damage he would have done to innocent bystanders or by standing buildings.
Marion got up, shook the dust off herself again, and circled around to sit at Leroy's feet. The rest of us settled back down to see what Rivar would do next. For several minutes, she just watched us, occasionally glancing behind her back, as if she were afraid someone were sneaking up behind her. None of us were, unless Tzika was up to something. I asked the others if they had any idea what Rivar was expecting. No one suggested anything. I think Rivar decided we weren't going to do anything until she did something. She still did not attempt to leave. I wonder if she thought someone or something would prevent her from doing so.
Whatever might be the answer to that question, after about an hour, she started to assemble several boxes into a makeshift table, placing planks of wood from collapsed buildings across the boxes. She then collected smaller pieces of wood and other flammable items, and made a small pile of them on the table. She cast a series of small spells next. The first one produced a bag, from which she removed a crock and a package of dried spices. The second one, a lit candle. The third, a shiny, curved knife. The last, a small chicken. I asked Leroy where the objects and animal were coming from. He shrugged and said elsewhere in the town.
Rivar pulled a chain out from under her robes. From it dangled a medallion, which an imprinted symbol which I couldn't make out from this distance. She lit the fire with the candle. While it was catching, she put the spices in the crock, and lit them. She blew smoke from the spices into the face of the chicken, which protested vociferously right up until she cut its head off with the shiny, curved knife. It continued to struggle after that, but did not produce further sounds. She dripped some of the blood onto the fire which did not go out, but instead flamed up higher and burned much brighter, bright enough to hurt the eyes, even at midday. She drained the rest of the blood into the crock, and then used the mixture of burned spices and blood to draw a pattern on the table by the fire. When she finished the pattern, the whole thing -- table, chicken, crock, spices, firewood and candle -- burst into a gout of flame, which disappeared without leaving so much as a wisp of smoke behind.
A familiar stench, however, rose in the air. Rivar had brought Squiddie back to life. Where the table had stood, a reduced Squiddie hovered in the air. Where once had been many tentacles, we now saw only four. What had once been larger than a fully mature dragon was now smaller than Alvin. I thumbed my nose at it in contempt. Doing so made me feel better. We huddled to discuss what to do next.
While we debated, Rivar argued with Squiddie. The god, or godling, was all in favor of going into hiding right now, and attempted to order Rivar to find the remaining followers and reassure them of Squiddie's continued existence. The godling was weakening by the moment. Rivar had not summoned a god to nurse it back to health, however, and wanted immediate action against us. Squiddie told Rivar about the battle with the dragons. Rivar said that wasn't relevant. Only one dragon, and not a mature one, was present here. Surely, she said, even a pathetic excuse for a god like Squiddie could take us. Leroy said he thought he saw Squiddie shrink by another foot when Rivar said that.
Up until now, Gard had taken a very passive approach to the entire situation in Orena. She had not volunteered to attack Rivar directly, as had Marion. Her sheer size would make it difficult to attack Rivar without risking a mortal wound. With the arrival of Squiddie, however, Gard had started growling. I think Gard viewed Squiddie shrinking as a sign of weakness and vulnerability. With a designated target, and no one telling her not to kill, she did the obvious: she dived right in, tooth and claw.
Squiddie batted her away with two of his tentacles. This was Squiddie's first mistake. Gard bit into one as it struck her across the jaws and hung on. The more Squiddie thrashed around in an effort to get free, the more damage Squiddie took. The head on the end of the tentacle started emitting a thin, high-pitched screech. It sounded horrible, but I can't say I felt any sympathy. The tentacle came away from Squiddie, but not until Gard had bitten all the way through it. That tentacle did not regenerate. Squiddie backed away from Gard, but Gard had already landed on the second tentacle. She raked it with her claws and bit into it. It, too, was nearly destroyed before Squiddie relinquished it. It, too, did not regenerate. By now, Squiddie was panicked, begging Rivar to allow him to escape before he was destroyed. He said again and again he could not survive an attack from us, and had no illusions about being able to hurt us. He also said he would come back weaker if destroyed again.
Rivar wasn't listening, though. Squiddie, she said, you are a weather god of awesome powers and fear-inspiring brutality. There are clouds in the sky. Zap them with lightning. Squiddie complied. Bolts of lightning grounded harmlessly around us, unable to strike us directly. But while Squiddie was aiming at us, Rivar pointed a finger at Gard, who was angling for a third tentacle. She must have miscalculated slightly. Instead of tumbling end over end and landing against a wall, Gard slid backwards a few yards before skittering to a halt. I'm not sure what Squiddie was thinking, but while Gard was recovering, he rotated around to present his good side to us. That made it almost too easy.
Gard finished off a third tentacle before Rivar knocked her for a loop again. This time, Rivar tossed Gard against a wall. The wall crumbled, and it took Gard a few minutes to get back out of the rubble. While she was digging herself out, Alvin decided to get in a lick or two, and breathed fire at Squiddie. Squiddie ducked away from the first gout of flame, but couldn't avoid the fumes which followed. The second, much larger blast of fire caught the godling square in the middle of his lumpy body. The entire body blackened, and fell to the ground. Squiddie was once again very, very dead.
Rivar looked shocked. I don't think she believed what Squiddie had told her. I don't think she believed what she was seeing. She poked at the sole remaining, scorched tentacle. She lifted an edge of the body, dropping it hurriedly when she realized how hot it still was. She kicked at it. She screamed. A blast of energy hit us all, knocking us backwards and destroying our makeshift bench. Debris rained down upon us all, burying us.
It took me a half hour to dig my way back out. My clothes were filthy, and in the course of digging my way out, I'd broken nails, lost hair and collected an assortment of bruises. Other than that, I was uninjured. The others had gotten free before me, but not quickly enough to prevent Rivar from setting up another altar, and collecting another sacrifice. This time, she wasn't playing around with a chicken: she had a goat. The ritual took longer. We got a closer look at the pattern she was creating with the blood of the goat. She wrote both of Squiddie's full names, and some other symbols, that Astrea thought were intended to give additional power to Squiddie in this second summoning, or, should I say, resurrection. The flame that consumed the sacrifice was sluggish at first, then larger and even brighter than before. The Squiddie that returned, however, was smaller: three tentacles instead of four, and with a smaller body.
Squiddie came out blasting, as if he was in a hurry to get this over with and just die again. All the visible clouds scudded across the sky, stopping when directly over head. They darkened. They lowered. They glowered. They dumped all their moisture on us and the ground surrounding us. Then the lightning struck. It couldn't hit us directly, but it traveled through the now-wet earth and zapped Rivar. She was knocked over, and momentarily stunned. She punched Squiddie and yelled at him. More lightning struck, hitting the buildings this time. Despite the damp, they caught on fire and burned down around us. Every building on a block fronting on the square was burned to the ground, everything flammable consumed, all metal turned to puddles, as if it were some vast forge. We watched. We choked a little on the smoke. We tried to wipe some of dust and debris off our faces and clothing, using the puddles of water all around us. I pulled the journal back out of its watertight pouch and took more notes.
I do not know just went Marion sneaked away from the group. I did notice her behind Rivar as I was writing what had happened since I'd crawled back out from where I had been buried alive. I suppose she must have been one of the first of us to dig out and taken advantage of Rivar's preoccupation with spell casting to sneak out of the square and circle around. I tried to not let any expression show on my face, but it was hard not to gasp. Marion didn't attack Rivar. Instead she streaked past Rivar, sliding underneath Squiddie. We couldn't see anything but her tail after a moment and despite my protection of Marion, I was worried. We'd never seen Squiddie's underbelly, but the underside of a squid isn't necessarily a soft white point of easy attack. The beak could more accurately be described as its best weapon. Of course, in Squiddie's case, the tentacles were more of a threat, but if he had a beak, he was sure to use it. As long as the tail twitched, we all waited. Rivar ordered Squiddie to continue attacking us as the long pause continued, but Squiddie didn't react at all. Whatever Marion was doing under Squiddie was occupying his full attention. Rivar kicked Squiddie. Squiddie did not respond. Rivar pointed a finger at Squiddie, and he was pushed about a foot to one side, but did not otherwise respond. Then, as I was about to ask Leroy if we should help Marion, Squiddie emitted a squeal and then went completely silent. The tentacles no longer twitched. All the eyes we could see rolled in their sockets, unfocused. Squiddie was, once again, dead.
Marion slinked back out, covered with gore and spitting. She looked malformed, as if parts of her had been squeezed in a vise. Rivar knocked her for a loop, and Marion vomited as she spun through the air and kept vomitting as she got back to her feet. We hurried over to help, but we were not needed; Marion was vomiting up bits of Squiddie that she had no desire to digest, but had bitten off and swallowed in the heat of the moment. The visible dents in Marion's head and body, inflicted by the powerful beak, slowly filled in as she rid herself of the rest of Squiddie. When we were sure Marion was okay, we returned our attention to Rivar, who was leaning over Squiddie's dead body, pounding her fists into it and crying with rage.
I asked Rivar to order Alvare to remove the compulsion. My request galvanized Rivar into action. Alvare was summoned again, and this time ordered to bury us all alive where we stood. Alvare asked how deep. Rivar screamed just do it. I blinked, and when I opened my eyes again, I was in a hole underground, with a small shovel. It sure was nice having a demon working the loopholes in our favor. I brought the journal up to date and then put it away, to dig my way out.
Upon escaping, I carefully concealed my shovel, to avoid causing additional problems for Alvare, or alerting Rivar to the importance of detailed instructions. I assume the rest had done the same, but as I had spent time writing while they were digging, they were out and about before I was.
Also while I was underground, Tzika had arrived. A picnic basket sat to one side of the struggle, and Alvin, in human form, was setting up a small brazier. Once he had finished stocking it with charcoal, he returned to dragon form and squatted next to it, waiting. Rivar and Squiddie were at the bottom of the pile, or perhaps I should say piles. Gard and Marion were beating the life out of Squiddie from atop his head. Marion had learned that underneath was not the safest place to attack this particular godling. Jack and Leroy were methodically slicing the tentacles against what were either small shields or large platters, making rings of flesh which twitched gently. With only two tentacles on this incarnation, and with the god barely larger than the two of them combined, what would otherwise be a foolish occupation became humorous.
Rivar was stretched out upon the ground. Tzika must have brought shackles and chains, as Rivar was spread eagled and staked out. Astrea was kneeling on Rivar's torso, hardly a comfortable position for either of them. Tzika was leaning over Rivar's face making complicated hand motions in front of Rivar's eyes. Rivar was staring glassily at the movements and I couldn't see so much as a twitch.
I was not needed. I tried to reconstruct a bench, but could find no debris larger than my head. Tzika noticed what I was looking for and told me I could find a folding stool in the hamper she had brought. Alvin pointed, and I dug around until I found a collection of wood and cloth. After a moment, I assembled it, and sat down. With one leg crossed over the other, I could write easily.
Jack and Leroy worked their way up the tentacles, slicing as they went. When they had finished, they each had a few pounds of squid flesh in a shallow, wide bowl. They brought the bowls over to the the brazier and set them down. They pulled out a covered jug of aromatic fluid, opened it up, and poured it over the meat. Jack hollered at Marion and Gard to wrap it up, and Leroy asked Alvin to start the fire. They started frying the bits of Squiddie, which, disturbingly enough, twitched right up until Gard ripped Squiddie's head completely open and scooped his brains out. Leroy supervised the cooking, while Jack found a smaller bowl and a fork in the hamper. As bits of calamari were ready, Leroy scooped them out into the bowl. When the bowl was full, Jack set a larger bowl next to Leroy. Leroy continued to fill the second bowl, while Jack walked over to Rivar, and handed the bowl to Astrea. Astrea shifted position slightly, so she was less on Rivar's belly, and more over her hips. Tzika's hand motions changed, slowing down. Rivar looked marginally more alert, and tracked the bowl as it changed hands. She watched, mesmerized, as Astrea picked up rings with the fork, and offered them to Rivar. Tzika's hand motions mimicked opening, and Rivar's mouth opened. In went the calamari. Tzika's hands closed again in a double fist, pumping and Rivar swallowed. I'd watched small children being fed at my previous employers. If the nurses had had a trick like this one, it would have gone a lot faster, and made less of a mess.
They got two bowls into Rivar, before Rivar became so full she could no longer be readily mesmerized into eating. The fire was allowed to burn out. No one else showed any interest in eating any of the squid. The marinade had smelled wonderful, but there were limits, especially after what we'd watch Marion vomit. No one showed any interest in lunch at all. Alvin torched the remaining corpses, emitting so hot and focused a blast that their destruction was total, almost magical. One moment: a stack of monster squid, three high. The next, soot drifting on small breezes and a hot pile of ash.
Leroy pulled a brush out of the hamper, and with a jug of water, helped Gard get the worst of the gore out of her fur. Marion walked over and sat down in front of me. I asked Leroy if there was another brush and more water, and he tossed me a brush and a damp cloth. I started cleaning Marion's fur.
Astrea crawled off of Rivar and backed away. Tzika's hand motions slowed to a gradual halt. Rivar slowly recovered a more normal, that is to say, hostile demeanor. She looked around, uncomprehendingly, as if the battle had not occurred for her, as if she had not consumed two plates of her last ally, hope and resort. She couldn't put the pieces together. With no corpses remaining to give her a clue, and all of us, including the patently unfamiliar Tzika, surrounding her, waiting, she gave up. She asked us what had happened.
I told her. I told her what I knew. I said she'd resummoned Squiddie, who had been overcome by a werefox and a warg, while being sliced up by two human fighters. She hadn't seen it because she'd been overcome by a day walking vampire and a mage who'd been around for at least a thousand years. The slices were barbecued by a dragon, and fed to her. I added that she'd downed two whole bowls before she was full. In the silence which followed, Tzika asked what Rivar thought of the flavor of the marinade.
Rivar rotated completely around, staring at each of us in turn. By now, Gard and Marion were mostly clean. Even the soot from the funeral fire had drifted away. We stood in a large square of black ash and pulverized building materials and waited to see what she would do.
In the end, she could do nothing. She did not even have it in her to scream, at least, not while she was busy vomiting up her lunch. Seeing a second person, however personally despicable, puke squid all over the ground set me off. The remains of breakfast came up, and then dry heaves. Tzika walked over, caught my eye and did something with her hands that I didn't quite see. I felt better immediately, but much more worried. She patted me on the back and said not to worry, she hadn't fed me anything, and offered me a glass of water. I used it to wash my mouth out and thanked her.
Rivar cried. Tzika gave her a glass of water and a napkin, to wipe up a variety of fluids with. Rivar cleaned up a bit, and then summoned Alvare. I must admit, that my first reaction to that summoning was a feeling of dread, but Rivar was done. She told Alvare to remove the compulsion, and freed her from the binding at the same time. I was startled, that she would finally do so. I had started to believe we might be in this square for days. Rivar was even more startled by the results: Alvare was still there.
More than anything else, Alvare's continued presence brought Rivar out of her trance. She demanded to know why, now that she was freed, Alvare did not return to her own plane of existence. The other Alvares popped into existence around Rivar, and the first said they all liked Orena, and wanted it to thrive once again. She added that they felt Rivar would be crucial to this recovery, and then more or less hustled her back to her office to plan that recovery.
We watched them depart, silently. I finished brushing Marion, and went to pack up what we had brought with us. Tzika announced that she, too, would be staying to assist in the town's revival. I asked why, and she said the Divarae sounded like it had gotten too stuffy to be interesting. She didn't want to return north, and Bol sounded no better than anywhere else she'd ever been. I suspect she saw Alvare and Rivar as the sort of people who needed watching. We finished packing, and trooped back to the inn, speculating about whether we should continue south to Bol, stay for a while, or pick a new destination.
Alvin struggled. He wanted to travel. He wanted to be with Marion. But Tzika was the most powerful, non-dragon magic practitioner he might ever meet. He overpoweringly wanted to be her pupil. With Alvin, Tzika, Rivar and Alvare, it was impossible to see the future of Orena as anything other than as a destination for students of magic. The place was depopulated and damaged already. A few misspent spells were unlikely to do any additional damage. A tearful parting from Marion was not immediately planned however. Even with human hunting, game in the area was plentiful. Marion and Alvin discussed whether they could convince Aureum and Joe to visit Orena on occasion and share their knowledge as well. If they succeed, and I suspect they will, Orena will not lack for skilled and able teachers.
Back at the inn, our appetites revived. As we worked our way through the generous picnic meal Tzika had prepared, we discussed what to do next. Gard flopped down on the floor, her nose on Leroy's feet. She was not picky about where we went. For now, at least, she was going wherever Leroy went. Once again, Jack, Leroy, Astrea and I were fellow-travelers, uncertain of our immediate plans. I was curious about how Vira was doing in Lytton, and Joe in the City of Werekind, but not so curious as to feel compelled to travel there to find out. What I did have was a minor itch to catch up with Irvish and Rushi, and find out just what was going on in the south. No one else had a compelling alternate plan, but did point out that no one was waiting for us back in Rayling; we might as well find our way south by another route, to wit, Bolport. In Bolport, we could find more news of the southern domains, and track the cult to its source. Irvish and Rushi were not stupid; nor were the travelers they had intended to meet up with. We would find them in the middle of the action.
Tzika was pleased with our decision, but not forthcoming with any reason why. When we asked whether we should leave the spells Elvina had given us with Alvin or take them with us, she emphatically told us to take them along. She'd found time to visit Alicidae and purchase a stack of maps and travel guides for Bolport and points south. She helped us restock our travel provisions. I got to thinking Tzika might want us out of Orena. I'm going to try to put the rest of this conversation down word for word, partly to see if I can, but mostly because I think it's important. I asked, "Do you want us to leave Orena?" She replied, "No, it isn't that I don't want you in Orena, so much as that my auguries say it is important you be on your way. And no, the auguries did not say why."
"Why", I asked Tzika, "are predictions so obscure and vague?" She looked at me, leaned over, and whispered, "Two reasons. First, it's hard enough to get a story straight after it has happened. No reason to think the future would be any clearer. Second, it's a lot easier to get it right if you leave the details out." I told her, "I am sure you are better at magic than that -- you don't need to cover your ass, do you?" Tzika grinned, and told me, "It isn't my magic that isn't up to snuff: it is the magic of the gods."
I was shocked. Tzika laughed, patted me on the shoulder, and said, " If you can't figure out how to use what power you have, you shouldn't be so surprised to find out the spirits we consult are similarly ignorant. How you got so far in such an unpleasant life with any illusions left is beyond me, and I am sorry to tear them down, but there you are."
And here I am, as ignorant as ever, and with less faith in the knowledge of others. I'm really going to miss Tzika, but maybe, after having been around her, I'll appreciate the rest of my companions a little more.
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Copyright Rebecca Allen, 1999.
Created: July 8, 2012 Updated: July 8, 2012