The Whole World in Shards

  * * *

  Merinel, the Sensualist, was peripherally aware of the unrelenting perfection of her body – her lustrous hair, her supple limbs, her flawlessly proportioned curves, none of which seemed to have any regard whatsoever for the force of gravity. She was far more aware of the beauty of the world around her. The water in her clothing and lungs evaporated instantly, and as she stepped out of the resulting cloud and exhaled a long cool spray of mist, she laughed and wept for joy. She was intoxicated by every impression – the caress of the wind on her skin, the rustle of leaves and the distant purr of waves on a shoreline, the bright and soaring aroma of wild growth and salt air. When she opened her eyes, she sank to her knees as the riot of sky and sea and grass momentarily overwhelmed her.

  Taking a moment to bring her unruly senses to order, Merinel saw that the environment Szerar had selected for her was an island that was shaped and patterned like the Ship itself, albeit much smaller. On the aftward horizon – no, not aftward, she corrected herself, merely … where is the Sun … northern – she saw a cluster of hills and stone spires that matched the outline of Mecantrion.

  Laughing, Merinel began retracing her journey at a dash. She stomped disdainfully upon the rocks and toadstools which matched the configuration of Jnuluk. Passing over the hard-packed earth of Yoeor’s security zone, she extended her arms and made airplane noises. Trotting over a small footbridge which spanned the Eighth Transverse Ravine, she slackened her pace to pick her way through the bramble which stood in for the Forene’Xab Mistforest. Her bare feet splashed heedlessly through the branching rivulets that made up Irinon.

  The bronze and umber grasses abaft the Ninth Ravine came no higher than Merinel’s ankles, but she did her best to place her footfalls on the scattered line of miniature pentagonal plates. She traced a winding path through the pillars of Mastmarch, some of which reached as high as her shoulders. Afore the Tenth, she paused to admire the great spherical boulder of Lhaës and the intricate patterns of varicolored mosses that covered its bulk.

  Startled birds fled from the clustered rookeries of Zaltta as she raced between them. Pausing to catch her breath, she saw that she was drawing close to Tenbor: a wide and shallow valley with an immense tree growing in the center of its basin.

  Merinel walked to the edge of the valley and contemplated the tree. The bole of the tree was dense and gnarled, but its heights sported branches of varying girth. “So empty,” she observed. She raised her arms in the air and her totem glyph appeared between her hands. Frowning in concentration, she crafted a glyph that would evoke an illusory figure from the underlying logic of the environment. Once complete, the glyph faded away, and she banished her totem with a wave of her hands. Regarding the tree again, she saw that a man was now vaulting among its branches, assisted by a strand of living silver.

  Smiling, Merinel chanted once to banish the sheen of sweat from her skin, and again to transport herself to the base of the tree in a drifting blur. She cocked her head up at the acrobat. “Is that only as fun as it looks?” she asked.

  The phantom Adimar dropped to the ground and wound the cable around his torso, looking askance at her. She noted that he differed in several respects from the physical Adimar – his hair was longer, and his eyes were an arresting shade of green. Merinel approved of the changes.

  “Do I know you?” asked Adimar.

  “A complicated question,” replied Merinel. “Do you believe so?”

  “I suppose not,” mused Adimar. “It is just that you bear a resemblance to my companion.”

  “Mmm, your ‘companion.’ Lucky girl, that one.”

  “I … she … not in that sense,” stammered Adimar. “You misunderstand.”

  “So noble,” sighed Merinel, teasing out a length of cable from the coils on his chest. “An adorable quality. But such concerns are not for phantasms. This is an enchanted isle,” she continued, twining the cable about her shoulders. “Entanglements are encouraged.”