Mordecai

  “I’ve been dead before,” I said callously.

  “That’s not the point,” she replied. “The point is how much your family will suffer watching it. That’s why I’m talking to you now, while you’re still clear enough to decide for yourself.”

  I didn’t say anything, preferring instead to stare at the ceiling.

  “Word has been sent to Gareth Gaelyn,” Elise informed me. “Matthew said he could possibly do something…”

  I interrupted her, “He won’t come.”

  Elise nodded, “Matthew said the same, but your wife sent word to him anyway. Are there any others that might have some ability to help?”

  There were. Lyralliantha, if she possessed the She’Har’s knowledge of spellweaving techniques for healing, but she was a tree now. She couldn’t travel, and even if she could, it would take weeks just to pose the question to her. The only other possibility was Tyrion himself, and I would rather die than accept his aid. Even if he was willing to come, there was no telling what horror he would ask for to repay him.

  I shook my head negatively.

  Elise bowed her head sadly. “I expected as much.” Reaching into her pouch she pulled out a glass vial. “In a day or two you’ll start to itch all over. When that happens, you’ll know it’s almost too late, madness will follow soon after. Talk to your family, give them peace, then drink this.”

  Pulling my eyes away from the ceiling, I looked directly at her. The tough old woman had tears on her cheeks. This had to be incredibly difficult for her. I remembered all too well how hard it had been for me, when I had ‘helped’ my own father die peacefully.

  “Elise,” I said quietly. “Thank you. You’ve done the right thing. Remember that, in the nights to come. I haven’t quite given up yet. I’ve cheated death too many times to believe it’s my time, but if the worse comes, this will make it easier.”

  She wiped her face. “Gram and I always wanted more children, but it just didn’t happen. You and Marc helped fill that gap. The two of you were like sons to me. If my husband were still here, he would tell you to be proud. You’ve done well with what you were given.” She rose to her feet and walked to the door. “Remember, when you start to itch all over, delirium will follow soon after. Wait too long and you’ll lose the choice.”

  Then she was gone, and it was hard to ignore the itching in my hands. Dammit.

  ***

  Another nap and I found Penny sitting beside me again. How long did I sleep? Time wasn’t my friend anymore, if it ever had been. “I need to see Mother,” I told her.

  “What did Elise say?” asked Penny, concern in her features. “She said you would tell us what you talked about.”

  Even dying, I was more worried about my wife’s reaction than I was the grim reaper showing up on my doorstep. I could see no way this conversation would end well. “She said to use my time well.”

  Her hands tightened into fists. “I’ll kill him.”

  “Penny…”

  “This is no idle threat,” she said, cutting me off.

  “You can’t.”

  “Maybe not alone,” she admitted. “But I’m not alone. Do you realize how much raw power sleeps under this roof? How many dragons we have?”

  “You’d start a war,” I cautioned.

  “I don’t care!” she yelled. “Don’t forget the Queen either. If we don’t have enough here, I’ll see to it that all of Lothion goes to war with us. We’ll burn every tree on that fucking island, and when that’s done I’ll see Tyrion gutted like a fish!”

  “No, you won’t,” I said tiredly. “Are you planning to kill Lynaralla’s mother too? She’s innocent. The She’Har are innocent. Even Tyrion didn’t mean for this to happen.”

  “There has to be some way,” she muttered, her voice thick.

  “Several,” I replied, “but none that allow me to remain human.”

  Her eyes lit with hope, but I shook my head immediately. “No. I’ve been a monster before. I’d rather go gracefully than accept that,” I told her.

  “But you came back,” she insisted. “You could do it again.”

  She was referring to the immortality enchantment. The magic that had once trapped me in an undying body. I had been forced to steal life from the mortals around me to retain a semblance of humanity. And I’m not sure I came back last time, I thought. At least not all the way.

  “With the help of two wizards, and one of them an archmage. Gareth won’t be doing me any more favors, and I wouldn’t ask it of him if he were willing. They got lucky last time. It could just as easily have been all three of us dead.”

  Penny wasn’t listening. “Can Matthew do it?”

  “Not with my consent.”

  She smiled through her tears. “We’ll just wait until the delirium sets in.”

  “The enchantment creates a snapshot of the mind at the moment it goes into effect. You’d be stuck with a madman,” I told her. “Come here.” I waved my hands vaguely, urging her to draw close. When she leaned in, I kissed her cheek. “There’s still hope, but I’m not doing anything stupid. If it comes to it, I want you to be strong and accept whatever comes.”

  The dam broke, but Penny didn’t cry long. After a few minutes she pulled herself together and stood straight. She sent for my mother first, and I spent a considerable time visiting with her.

  I didn’t tell my mother I was dying. That was too much, even for me. But I’m sure she sensed it in my words somehow. We spent an hour talking, and over the course of that period I made certain I left none of my feelings unspoken. She had to know what she had meant to me.

  My kids were a different matter. They had no inhibitions about blurting out what their intuition told them. Irene was the worst. No matter how cheerful I was, she wasn’t buying any of it. She was inconsolable, and she cried all the way out the door, tearing at my heart.

  Conall took the news quietly, but he too was a mess by the time he left. Moira kept her composure, but like her mother, she insisted on proposing an outlandish scheme to preserve my mind, if not my life.

  I rejected her idea outright. I had no desire to die and be replaced by some sort of spell-copy, which is what her plan amounted to.

  Matthew was the last to visit me, long after the sun had set. He had waited until last because he was caught up in his newest project. Or perhaps he was merely reluctant.

  When he entered his expression was blank. “The portal to Albamarl is almost done,” he informed me.

  I nodded, “That’s a load off my mind.”

  He laughed lightly. “I’m sure you have bigger things to worry about.”

  I smiled. “Maybe, but I can’t think of anything.”

  “Everyone thinks you’re dying,” he stated bluntly. “The whole house has gone crazy.”

  “But not you,” I observed.

  He sighed. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel real. Maybe later. I’m not going to run around the house crying and screaming, though.”

  No, you’ll ignore it until it bites you in the dark a few weeks later, I thought. And that’s why I worry about you more than them. You’ll try to face your grief alone.

  “Gareth has refused to come,” said Matthew.

  “As expected.”

  He walked to the window, looking out at the fall scenery. “Elise says it’s your kidneys that are the problem.”

  “Yeah,” I replied. I wanted to say more, to say a hundred different things. But I didn’t know how to talk to him. In some ways he was like my father, he communicated through actions and ideas. Feelings were not part of his vocabulary.

  My son tapped his temple, “The She’Har had ways to cleanse the blood. It’s all in here. We could study and adapt their spellweaving, create an enchantment to do the same thing.”

  And it would take weeks, if not months. The information was there, but understanding it, converting it, and using it, those were much harder things to do. “Possessing knowledge is one thing, using it is another,” I said simply.

&nb
sp; He nodded. “Then I’d better get started.” He walked toward the door but paused before he reached it. Walking back to the bed he leaned over and hugged me briefly.

  I grinned. “If I had known dying would get me hugs, I’d have done it sooner.”

  Matthew smirked. “Don’t get used to it. You’ll be better soon.”

  Chapter 12

  The next day I was miserable. Despite my exhaustion I hadn’t been able to sleep. The itching that had started in my palms had spread, first to my feet and then to my legs and torso. It was maddening. Desperately, I longed to leap from the bed and throw myself into a cold bath. That was the only relief that I could imagine would stop the hot itching sensation that crawled over my skin.

  Today I was planning to meet with my friends, Cyhan, Chad, Peter, and several dozen others. Then I’d spend the last hours with my family. I was trying to decide which to call for first when I heard a commotion in the hall.

  “Who let you in here?!” That was Penny’s voice. “He’s sick. Too sick for this.”

  The reply came in Chad Grayson’s rough tones, “Yer daughter did. An’ I need to speak to him if he ain’t dead yet.”

  “I told you no this morning!” shouted my wife.

  “An’ yet, ye ain’t done a damn thing,” he responded.

  Listening to them, I worried for fear she might decapitate the surly huntsman. Penny had never been particularly fond of him, and she was highly stressed currently.

  “I have to think,” she answered.

  “Lancaster is missing, ya crazy bitch! Someone’s got to decide what ta do!”

  What?! I knew I must have misheard him, and the last part—I listened hard, expecting to hear steel being drawn. Prickly as he was, even Chad wouldn’t normally speak to Penny like that.

  Penny’s response came in a measured tone, “My husband is dying.”

  “Then let him decide,” said Chad, his tone bitter and wry. “He probably needs somethin’ to take his mind off it.”

  The slap that followed was loud enough for me to hear through the door, and a momentary silence followed.

  “Could you people shut up! I can’t focus will all this racket!” That was Matthew. The sound of feet told me that the rest of the household was probably emerging to join the ruckus.

  “Get Sir Gram and Sir Cyhan,” said Penny. “Take your hunters as well. Examine the area and report back.”

  “This needs a wizard, milady,” said Chad gruffly. “I just returned an’ I can’t make heads or tails of it. What about him?”

  Matthew’s voice answered, “I’m busy.”

  A flurry of suggestions followed, but Matthew shot them all down. “I said no. I need them here.”

  Moira spoke then, suggesting they send one of the Prathions.

  I missed the rest of the argument because just then a purple cloud came through the window with a roar of wind. The sound drowned out their voices. It was so sudden that I was alarmed, but Dorian stood up from the chair beside the bed. “Get out!” he yelled at the cloud.

  It didn’t listen, but Dorian had brought the bellows from my father’s smithy. Setting up at the foot of the bed, he proceeded to pump it until the rushing air pushed the cloud back out the window.

  Once that was done he sat back down. “Now, where were we?”

  I smiled at him, “We were talking about Marc.”

  Dorian shook his head sadly. “I told you, he’s gone. He disappeared when Lancaster vanished.”

  That made no sense. Looking up I watched the geese flying overhead. “Then why are the birds still there?” I asked.

  The rest of the day was confusing. It seemed as though hundreds of people came and went, and there were always at least twenty people in my room, all talking at the same time. There was no quiet until sundown. As the sky turned orange and the sun began to vanish behind the mountains, everyone left, until only Elise remained, staring down at me with sad eyes.

  “You waited too long,” she said sadly. “Now it’s too late.”

  I tried to answer, but my voice wouldn’t work. It’s not my fault. It’s these ants, they’re all over me!

  And then darkness covered my eyes.

  ***

  A faint light irritated me. When I tried to look at it, it faded, but as soon as I turned my head it followed, keeping me from resting. There was something I had forgotten, something I needed to do.

  Penny’s face came into focus. She sat huddled beside the bed. Her head turned, and the candlelight caught her eyes for a moment, so I knew she wasn’t asleep. What bothered me more was that the shadows were moving behind her. They were long and distorted, but I could see the knives in their hands.

  Trying to warn her, I opened my mouth, but whatever I managed to say, it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t see the shadows.

  The door opened, and light exploded into the room, setting my eyes on fire and sending the ants that covered me scurrying for cover. I might have screamed, but I heard nothing. After an eternity the flames died down, and I saw my children against the wall. No, there were too many. And some of them weren’t mine.

  Why is Gram here, and Alyssa too?

  They were staring at me with empty eyes, and that was when I realized they were dead. Desperate, I scanned their faces, Irene, Carissa, Conall, Gram, Alyssa… all dead. Even Rose was there, but Matthew and Moira were missing. Maybe they escaped…

  I stared at their dead bodies, slumped along the walls and in the corners of the room, and when my heart could take no more, I began to cry. Some of the bodies moved, rising from their eternal rest. They had become shiggreth. I struggled to rise from the bed, but a demon was pressing me down, forcing me onto the mattress.

  It had Cyhan’s face, but none of his gentleness. Its hands were burning brands that seared me wherever they touched, but I didn’t have the strength to escape them, so I ignored the pain and relaxed.

  My hand found something under the covers, something cool and hard. Drawing it out, I saw a glass vial between my fingers. The liquid within shone golden in the candlelight. Hope blossomed in my chest. Sitting back up, I called for Penny, but my cry was answered by the demon, and this time it had a helper just as big, wearing Gram’s face like a skin-mask.

  They forced me down, but I held on tightly to the vial, to my salvation. And then they vanished, their darkness fleeing before the light that shone around Penelope. Evil could not bear the sight of her, or remain in her presence.

  “What is it Mort?” she asked, her face hovering above me, too far to reach. Her eyes were wet, and her cheeks red. Did they hurt her?

  Holding out the vial, I tried to explain, “I found it, Penny. Help me drink it. It’s magic. I can save us, there’s still hope!”

  She smiled, and sunshine broke through the window, cascading over us. “Of course,” she whispered. Pressing it back into my hand, she helped me lift it to my lips and something cool trickled down my throat, fire made into liquid ice. My power swelled within me, and I raised my hand to the ceiling, strong once more. Blasting a hole through the roof, I took Penny’s hand in mine, and we flew.

  A door opened in the heavens, and I saw Moira ahead of us, blocking our path to freedom, except it wasn’t her. It looked like her on the outside, but within I could see a monster, a serpent that had eaten her up, from the inside out. It smiled, showing me fangs and leering at me with serpentine eyes.

  Father, can you hear me? It was her voice, but now I could see there were two of her.

  Let me go! I ordered, for there were shackles on me now, dragging me down and binding me to the bed. Matthew stood behind me, hidden in a black robe, while Lynaralla stood to my right. The two Moiras were on my left, and Conall and Irene were at my feet. All of them were in robes, and I realized then that they meant to sacrifice me.

  I would die in the same way that Tyrion should have, at the hands of my children. Lynaralla leaned over me, her silver hair falling across my chest, almost hiding the silver dagger in her hands. It glittered in the light as
she lifted her hands to strike.

  The blade hovered there as she chanted in Erollith, “So that the Illeniel may live, you must die.” Then she plunged it into my chest, and agony screamed in my heart and through my veins.

  Powerless even to cry out, I stared into the eyes of my murderous offspring as the world dimmed around me, my life leaking out of my chest, a river that they were devouring like feral beasts.

  Unlike an ordinary murder, this one went on for ages, my heart somehow pounding around the blade in my chest, while I slowly died in silent steps. Despite their betrayal, I forgave them, and as my life bled away, I spoke my final words, “I love you.” Thankfully, oblivion found me after that, the sweet embrace of death.

  Chapter 13

  The afterlife turned out to be more pleasant than I had expected. I floated along for some time on a white cloud, while the trees shed their leaves like rain. Warm sun and cold wind competed for my skin’s attention. I stared at the scenery, unable to comprehend the beauty before me.

  A young man walked in front of me, my son, Conall. I wasn’t certain until he turned his head to look back at me. Then he spoke, but it was Chad Grayson’s voice that emerged. “How long are ya goin’ to keep droolin’ like that? Ya look like a fuckin’ idiot.”

  I frowned. Conall’s lips hadn’t moved. Something wasn’t right. Had he spoken in my mind? On impulse I tilted my head back. My vision was filled by the sky, a grey and blue masterpiece filled with clouds rushing in the wind. In the center of it was Chad’s face, staring back at me.

  “Yeah, those are clouds, asshole,” he said to me.

  Then Conall chimed in, “I really wish you wouldn’t speak to him like that.”

  Chad waved a hand dismissively. “He doesn’t know what I’m sayin’ anyway. We’ll know he’s really wakin’ up when he gets pissed off.”

  I started laughing.

  “See? He’s got no clue. He’s still a moron,” said Chad.