Penny bravely did as I asked, taking some small comfort in the feeling of weight on her feet that the acceleration brought. My shield was formed around us in tight spear-like shape, broader in the middle than at either end. Since we didn’t want to take all day getting there, and possibly because I wanted to show off, I pressed us to ever higher speeds. We cut through the air like an arrow while the wind screamed by just beyond the shield. The ocean was just beginning to pass beneath us, glittering in the sun as we left the coast behind.
One thing about fear, intense fear anyway, is that it can’t last. The body simply can’t sustain the adrenaline required for true panic for long periods of time. Abstract, or emotional terrors, are different, but the heart in your throat, fight or flight kind of fear, has a limit. Eventually the adrenal gland become exhausted and it fades.
My wife slowly adjusted, her breathing returning to normal and her mind relaxing as it became steadily apparent we weren’t about to die, at least not just yet. After a quarter of an hour she showed signs of enjoying it even.
I watched her through it all. This was nothing new for me, so it was more interesting to watch her reactions. Eventually her eyes returned to mine. “Shouldn’t you be watching where we’re going?”
“You’re prettier than the scenery,” I observed.
“Only you,” she remarked, “only you would say something like that while zooming around at—how fast are we going?”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. If I had to guess, I’d say fast, maybe even very fast, but still less than the speed of sound.”
We had discussed the concept before, so she didn’t have to ask what I meant by that. Instead she just gulped. “We aren’t going to go that fast, are we?”
I gave her my best thoughtful look, “It would be difficult. I can manage it when I’m by myself, but with two of us—I’m not sure. Do you want me to try?”
Her arms tightened painfully around my waist again. “No. This is fine.”
The hours passed in mostly silent reverie. I always enjoyed flying, but doing it with Penny added a new dimension of pleasure for me. It was more fun watching her experience it than I would have had on my own. Eventually the island appeared on the horizon, and sooner than I might have wished we were over the shoreline.
I slowed us gently and brought us down in a drifting spiral, like two autumn leaves that refused to be separated. When our feet finally touched the sand, Penny kissed me unexpectedly.
“Thank you,” she said.
I smiled. “That should be my line.”
The island had no name, or at least none that I knew of. I figured that if anyone should name it, it should be the new inhabitants, the reborn Illeniel She’Har. Given their strange culture, they probably hadn’t seen the need yet. If they called it anything, it was probably just ‘The Illeniel Grove’ to them. Maybe I would make the suggestion to them, if things went well.
The beach was narrow, a thin strip of sand that separated the ocean from the rocks that rose rapidly from it. In most places the island shore was bounded by cliffs, which was why I chose this area to land. Here the ground rose at an almost gentle rate, and shortly beyond the first rocks the trees began.
They were normal trees, palms at first, giving way to pine and cypress as one went further inland. Probably many of them would be replaced by the She’Har eventually, but that would be sometime in the future. For now, I was pretty sure there were still only two actual She’Har elders on the island, my ancestor Tyrion, and his mate, Lyralliantha.
We had only gone a hundred yards inland, before I sensed the presence of a welcoming party, or perhaps a better term would be ‘guards.’ It depended on your perspective. They were scattered through the forest around us, and they weren’t humanoids, as would be expected of the She’Har ‘children’. No, these bore a wide variety of inhuman shapes, for they were krytek, the short-lived soldiers of the She’Har.
Penny stopped moving when she felt my hand on her shoulder, then she tensed. Doubtless her extraordinary hearing had alerted her to the approaching forms. Technically these were our friends, but it’s hard to stay relaxed when a spider-like monstrosity the size of a warhorse steps out of the woods. Its friends weren’t quite as frightening, but the collection of strange looking beasts covered in spikes, claws, and sporting long fangs wasn’t reassuring.
And these were probably the least dangerous of the krytek.
The ones that bothered me, or rather ‘would’ have bothered me, if we weren’t allies, were the ones created with magical abilities. Most of those were much smaller and less fearsome in appearance. There were only one or two of those sort in attendance, which told me this was more of a welcoming party than an attempt to intimidate. At least from the She’Har perspective.
For Penny, who had no way of knowing whether they had significant magical abilities or not, these looked pretty damn threatening.
A small man-cat walking on two legs stepped forward to address us. He looked cute and stood only three-foot-high, but he was one of the dangerous ones. Appearances were always deceiving when it came to the She’Har, but at least he put Penny at ease. The look on her face was screaming ‘cute’ to me, and I guessed she was probably imagining giving the thing a cuddle.
“You were not expected,” said the diminutive krytek in Erollith, a language I understood, though it was foreign to Penny.
“We have come on a diplomatic visit,” I answered in the same language, “and to check on the well-being of our ward, Lynaralla.” My pronunciation was terrible, but he understood me.
The krytek twisted its head to the side in a remarkably dog-like expression of curiosity, “She is of the Illeniel Grove. Her health is not your concern.”
Good thing Penny didn’t understand him. His words would have irritated her and triggered a classic ‘momma-bear’ reaction. To be frank, they annoyed me as well, but I had a much more intimate knowledge of how the She’Har operated, and I knew on a rational level that the creature was just responding according to its best understanding, not with any intent to insult or offend.
Taking a deep breath, I spoke again, “Nonetheless, we are here. May we enter the Grove?”
The krytek nodded. “Of course. The elders have already been informed of your presence. Lyralliantha has given orders to escort you to them.”
‘Enter the grove’ was probably an overstatement, since it consisted of only two She’Har elders, but the phrase was built into the language from long tradition. The small catlike manling led us through the trees and up a slight incline as we went farther inland. As we went I noticed the krytek was leading us in a north-western direction, rather than the more northerly course that would have led us to where the elder trees were.
“Where are we going?” I asked my guide. “This is not the way to the elders.”
“You will see,” he answered.
Nothing sinister about that, I thought. Sometimes I use sarcasm with myself. Call me weird, but it keeps me sane.
“What’s wrong?” Penny asked, sensing something from the tone of our exchange.
Since I was fairly certain the krytek were just as well versed in our language as their own, I kept my reply neutral. “I’m not sure,” I told her. “He’s taking us somewhere other than where the elder trees are.”
“Why?”
I started to tell her I had no idea, but just then I felt a surge of aythar in the distance. It was ahead, in the direction we were heading. It was followed by several more flashes. Someone, or possibly several someones were using power, and they weren’t being subtle about it. Then I heard a grunt and a sound that could only be someone crying out in pain. A woman’s voice.
Penny stopped, “What was that?”
“Tyrion,” said our guide. “He is ahead.”
I looked at my wife, and then she said, “That was Lynaralla. Something’s wrong.”
Before I could reply, she took off—like an arrow she darted ahead—her legs driving her at a speed I couldn’t hope to mat
ch. Running after her, we left the guide behind, and seconds later, Penny left me behind. We weren’t too far from whatever the commotion was, so I resisted the urge to fly. It would allow me to catch up, but it would also cost me the element of surprise if something really was going on. Every mage in the area would sense my use of aythar.
As I ran I heard a man’s voice, “You stop when I say you can stop.” It was followed by a loud thump and another cry of pain. “You still have strength in you. You fight until you are dead or dying. Nothing else matters.”
“Father, please…” Even I could recognize Lynaralla’s voice at this range.
“Get up, or I’ll kill you myself,” came the man’s stern command.
“Leave her be!” That was Penny. Her warning was followed by the man’s laughter.
Dammit. The trees opened up before me and I could see a wide clearing, more than a hundred yards across. Lynaralla was on her knees, her head bowed and her posture one of dejection. A man stood in front of her, looking in my direction, but not at me. He stared at my wife, who was running toward him.
She had a good lead on me, fifty yards or more, and she looked furious, or I assumed she did. I couldn’t see her face from behind, but I knew my wife. She hadn’t drawn her sword, yet. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to abandon diplomacy.
Then the man reached out and grabbed Lynaralla’s hair, pulling her to her feet. “We have guests,” he intoned mockingly.
Penny’s sword flicked out, leaving her sheath so quickly it seemed like silver light in her hand.
The dark-haired man was lean, muscular, and naked from head to toe. He smiled as Penny bore down on him. That was when I recognized him. His face was in my memories, scattered moments when he had looked into still water, or rarer still, when he had been in front of an actual mirror. It was Tyrion.
“Penny! No!” I shouted, but it was too late. Releasing Lynaralla, Tyrion activated his tattoos and met Penny’s descending blade with his forearm. A shower of sparks resulted, but neither her blade, nor his arm was damaged.
Strangely, in that frozen moment, it was Lynaralla’s expression that stood out in my mind. She looked up, with a look of recognition, horror, and shame as she saw Penny coming to her aid. Her cheek was red and swollen, and blood ran from her lower lip.
My own heart was pounding, but my anger at the sight of the girl’s face wiped away any fear or doubts I might have had. The man was an animal. He deserved whatever he got.
I didn’t let my outrage overbalance me, though. This wasn’t my first time in the fire. Lynaralla needed to be protected first, and I couldn’t deal with Tyrion directly until my wife was away from him. With no better choices I decided to leave him to her for the moment while I lent aid to our semi-adopted child.
Penny’s movements were a blur, and Tyrion retreated slowly from her advance, blocking some strikes with his arms and dancing back to dodge others. He laughed the entire time, delight written in his eyes. He moved without hesitation, using his power to augment his speed, but still he was not quick enough to avoid her sword entirely.
The ancient archmage wasn’t using his enchanted shield tattoos, those would probably have stopped her attacks cold, instead he defended only with his armblades, and when her sword got through, blood ran from the shallow cuts it delivered. Nor did he attack her directly with his power, which would have cut the fight short.
No, he was enjoying this.
“Head toward the beach,” I told the girl. “You don’t need to see this.”
“I cannot,” said Lynaralla. “He wants me here—to learn.”
My heart clenched. I had an excellent idea what sort of lessons the brutal bastard wanted to teach her. Two thousand years hadn’t changed him. He still believed in training his children with trials of pain and suffering. He planned to abuse her until she was just as cruel and hard-hearted as he was.
“At least move back,” I said. “Off the field. I don’t want you hurt if this escalates.”
She nodded and moved in the direction we had come from.
Returning my focus to the fight, I saw that it had shifted. Bleeding from a half-dozen small cuts, Tyrion was no longer retreating. His movements were faster, surer now, and he was pushing Penny back. The look of anger on her face was slowly dying, replaced with desperation as she worked harder to keep his armblades from reaching her.
There was blood running down her cheek.
“Enough!” I shouted, drawing in my will and preparing to attack.
Tyrion reached out, wrapping my wife in a fist of pure aythar, trapping her arms, and lifting her feet from the ground. He was also careful to keep her body between us, though it was her eyes that held his gaze. “You heard your master, enough,” he ordered her, smiling as he said it.
“Put her down,” I said, a warning in my voice.
Instead, he walked past her, directly toward me. He still hadn’t bothered to shield himself. “You come here, to my land, and think to give me orders? You attack me, insult me, and now you think you can tell me what to do?” His voice never rose, but the madness in his eyes sent chills down my spine.
Still, I hadn’t survived as long as I had by backing down every time I met a megalomaniacal lunatic invested with power. “I came, to talk. I never expected to find you abusing children. Do you expect me to ignore that?”
Tyrion examined me from head to foot before he responded, “You have some spine, grandson, more than I believed. Perhaps it wasn’t such a waste of time sending her to you for a while. Even so, she is my property. I will do with her as I will.”
“Perhaps you haven’t heard the news,” I told him, “in this age, children are no longer property. The law protects them much the same as it does everyone else.”
He laughed, long and hard. “The only law here, is mine. This is not Lothion, or any of the other young nations. This is my island, and I am sovereign here. I will do as I please, with her, with your wife, or even with you. Do you think you can contest my power?”
My blood was pounding in my ears, and I felt both rage and fear. Tyrion didn’t sound any different than the gods I had faced in the past, and that meant trouble. He had Penny in his grasp, and I already knew his strength was at least equal to my own. Worse, I could sense a host of presences around us, hidden in the trees around the clearing. Krytek.
We were surrounded. Outnumbered and vulnerable, there would be no winning this confrontation. The only question was how much I was willing to lose.
But I had faced this sort of madness before. It had been in the eyes of Karenth the Just, in the face of Doron the Iron God. I had seen it in the casual indifference of Millicenth, the Lady of the Dawn, and in the cruel smirk of Mal’Goroth’s lips. There was no reasoning with such evil. There was only strength and weakness.
“Release her,” I began, my tongue thick with anger, “or we will find out. Disadvantage or no, I will do my best to rip this island apart if you hurt me or mine.”
Something approaching mirth shone in his lunatic eyes. “Well said.” Relaxing his will, Penny dropped to the ground behind him, gasping and rubbing at her arms to restore the circulation. “But I still sense weakness in you, grandson. What did you come here for?”
“Lynaralla,” I answered. “We want her back.”
Chapter 9
Tyrion’s eyes widened.
“She’s still young,” I added. “She hasn’t learned enough yet. She should have more time. She’s only just beginning to learn what it means to be human.”
“I brought her back because I doubted she would learn much from you,” returned Tyrion. “I don’t want her to grow up soft. When I said I wanted her to learn about humanity, I didn’t intend for you to treat her like a doll. She must learn to fight.”
“Is that what you thought you were doing just now?” I asked him, venom in my voice.
He glared back at me, “That’s exactly what I was doing, but she needs more. Battle is only part of it. Humans lie, humans steal, they are full of duplicity
. The She’Har do not understand this at all. That’s what I expected her to learn with you. Instead she came back talking about family, relationships, and love. Her time with you was worse than useless. That’s why I was forced to assume this human form once more.” He waved his hands at his naked body as if to illustrate the point.
“You wanted me to teach her treachery and hate,” I mumbled, somewhat stunned.
“This is a new world, one ruled by men. If my new children are to survive, they must learn how to navigate it,” stated the ancient archmage.
“She won’t learn that here,” I told him. “Beating her senseless will teach her nothing. If you truly want her to learn these things, then she must learn love first. Don’t you remember how you first learned? True suffering only comes from love. If you give her nothing, she will never have anything to lose, or anything to fight for.”
Tyrion turned away, staring at his daughter who was now talking with Penny at the edge of the clearing. When he looked back at me he had an evil gleam in his eye. “Very well. If you think love is the answer, show me. Fight for her.”
That set me back on my heels. What? Just to be sure I had heard him right, I asked, “What do you mean?”
He flashed pearly canines at me, “Exactly what I said. Fight me—for her. You think you’re some sort of father to her. Show me what your love can do. If you’re as weak as I think, I will keep her here. If you win, I’ll let you have her, for—say five years? What do you think? Is that fair enough for you? Or are you too scared to risk it?”
My mind felt blank as I stared back at him, and then I heard my own voice responding, “Until she’s ready to return, not five years.” Why did I say that?! I don’t want to fight him. I had often thought my mouth had a different agenda than my mind, and now I was sure it was trying to get me killed.
“That could be a long time,” Tyrion said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll need more than that if you want to change my offer. Then his eyes lit on Penny. Maybe a night with your woman?”