The Gossamer Plain (18 page)

“What does that mean?” Vhok asked with a frown. He held a slice of hot bread slathered with fruit compote. He was about to dip it into a bowl of clotted cream, but his hand hovered over the dish, forgotten in his concern at Zasian’s news.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” the priest replied. “It’s almost as though the quicker we go, the further from our goal we’ll be, but delaying only means diminished hope of success. I can’t be any clearer than that. I don’t really understand it myself.”

The cambion’s eyes blazed in anger, but Myshik sensed that Vhok’s fury was directed at something distant, rather than at the human sharing his table. The half-dragon wondered what was behind the journey they undertook. Thus far, Vhok and the priest had been unwilling to enlighten him.

“I don’t like how this is playing out. If she never reaches the gate or doesn’t know what to do, we will be trapped in the City of Brass with no way to get home again.”

“Not entirely true,” Zasian countered. “There are other portals available, other ways of traveling between the planes. We might have to pay dearly, in either gold or service, to make use of one, but it is possible to find our way back by another route should our plan not come to fruition.”

Vhok thought for a few moments longer. “What do you mean when you say ‘the further away we’ll be’? Aren’t we going in the right direction?”

“Yes, yes,” Zasian answered, “it’s not so much a question of direction as one of… time. It’s entirely possible that I’ve received two different possible answers, based on two different ways of completing the task. Divinations are notoriously vague and confusing, you know.”

Vhok snorted. “You do not have to remind me of that, priest. I’ve attempted to divine more than my share of shrewd courses to take in my lifetime. I’m sometimes convinced the very act of learning a thing causes direr consequences than remaining ignorant and acting on judgment and intuition.” The cambion sighed. “My gut tells me to hurry. Since we’re no closer to an answer after your efforts, I’m inclined to listen to my gut. So we cross the Infernals.”

Zasian nodded. “I expected such would be your decision. Based on your map, we will reach the shores of the Infernals after half a day of travel on foot. I might, however, find a more expedient means of getting there. I must spend a while in prayer, so I will tailor my divine inspirations to suit our journey and perhaps smooth the way before us.”

At that, the priest withdrew to his chambers, leaving Myshik and Vhok alone. The cambion didn’t seem in a mood for conversation, so the half-dragon finished his repast and returned to his quarters to gather his things. Vhok had instructed his servants to prepare food suitable for eating while traveling, so Myshik stuffed plenty of dried meat and waterskins into his pack.

Later, the three of them gathered in the foyer of the magical abode, and stepped through the shimmering curtain into the heat-blasted landscape of the elemental plane.

Aliisza became aware. She lay on a bed.

Her bed, within her quarters, within the Court. It was night.

I don’t want this bed, this room!

Slowly, she sat up, trying to remember what had happened to her.

There was falling, she remembered, a great plummet into the endless clouds. She let herself fall, never slowing her descent at all. It had gone on and on, growing darker as night seemed to settle and the air whistled past her. She sobbed for a long while, knowing she was destined to live out her year

of captivity in that fashion, just as the celestial judges had ordained. She had agreed to it. She had been foolish, thinking that she had to choose life—any sort of life—over death, for the sake of her child. So that she could be its mother, she had thought.

Oh, how foolish she had been to let them trick her that way. But she had, indeed, let them.

Somewhere during that melancholy catharsis, she had slipped into some kind of a trance, a half-waking daze.

She didn’t remember returning to her room, to her bed. She wondered how she wound up there.

A faint light, the glow of the moon, perhaps, shone through the window of the balcony. Aliisza arose from the bed, naked, and padded to the window. She peered out and saw the same horizon that had been there before. A sea of clouds stretched forever. The moon had indeed risen and shone down upon that eerie vista, casting a silvery glow everywhere. The alu listened, but the only sound she heard came from the fountain, gurgling as it trickled into the pool on the far side of the room.

Aliisza turned back and saw her clothing, her armor and weapons, laid carefully upon a chair. She dressed and donned her gear, then moved toward the door. She opened it a crack and peered into the courtyard. The soft glow of several lamps, set low on either side of the paths, bathed them in their honey-colored shine.

No one was there.

Am I to live here alone? she wondered. Is this what they intend? To drive me mad with isolation in this vast replica?

Anguish and fear began to well up in her again, but the alu grew angry with herself for such craven thoughts. She and Kaanyr had spent decades trapped beneath the cursed Hellgate Keep. What was a single year?

You didn’t do it all alone, she reminded herself. You had companionship. You had Kaanyr.

Is that what they want me to realize? That I need others to make me happy? Is that how I’m supposed to find some measure of benevolence, some deeper understanding of my own wholesomeness?

She dismissed that foolish notion.

Don’t let them win, she told herself. Outsmart them. Find away.

Sighing and trying to regain her confidence, Aliisza pulled the door open and stepped out into the garden plaza. After one step, she stopped and gasped.

The soft glow of moonlight had a strange effect on the trees, gave them a haunting, celestial look. Each leaf seemed to glow with an inner silver light. A gentle breeze whispered through the branches, and Aliisza thought she could make out faint music in. the tones. Numerous sets of chimes tinkled softly in the zephyrs, and the fountains gurgled serenely.

“It’s quite placating at night, isn’t it?” a voice said from behind her, in the shadows. Tauran.

Aliisza spun in place, suddenly on edge and angry again. “What are you doing here?” she snapped. “Come to torment me?” She spied him sitting upon one of the benches, previously concealed by a flowering hedge.

The celestial shook his head. “Not at all,” he replied gently. “To comfort you, if I may.”

Aliisza tossed her head in aggravated disbelief and turned away from him. “Don’t patronize me,” she sneered. “You came here to gloat over your trickery.”

“I don’t gloat,” the angel said, and his voice held a bit of an edge to it. Something almost dangerous. “I leave that for your kind.”

“My kind?” Aliisza said, incredulous. “And what, exactly, is my kind?”

“The self-serving, conniving, manipulative creatures who believe they are above the law and have little regard for anyone other than themselves,” Tauran answered. “You think you should be allowed to do anything you want, no matter the cost, and you take pointed delight in watching the wretched squirm in your wake. Your kind.”

Aliisza had to laugh at that. “Thus far, I’ve seen much of the same from you and yours,” she said. When the angel began to bristle, she added, “Don’t pretend you don’t manipulate. Don’t pretend you’re not self-serving. You told me just enough of the situation to convince me to trust you, that you had my best interests at heart, when all you really wanted was my child. And you think you can make it all better by pretending foolish compassion and gentle sadness.”

“You had every opportunity to turn me down,” he retorted. “And my interests go far beyond myself. I succeeded in saving your unborn child’s life, rescued it from your tainted influences.”

“Ah, at last, your true, disapproving self comes to the fore,” Aliisza crowed. “I wondered how long it would take, now that you have me trapped here.” Then she gave the angel the most baleful stare she could muster. “I’ll tell you this, though. I’d much rather be my kind than your kind,” she said. “Arrogant, judgmental, and self-important, too afraid to think big and seize the moment. I may be everything you described, but at least I don’t pretend otherwise. I know what I want, and I take what the world has to offer. I don’t let any whining, sniveling, unworthy wretch stand in my way.”

“And thus we see the foundation of our differences,” Tauran said quietly, the edge of anger gone. “You care more about yourself than others, and I care more about

others than myself. A crucial difference.”

“How? Why?” Aliisza was honestly flummoxed. “What is there to possibly gain by caring more for something else than for yourself? How silly!” she said. The alu turned and began to stroll through the garden. She heard the angel rise from the bench and follow her. She laughed again. “And, by the way, a huge lie. By your account, you should care more about me than about yourself. If that were actually true, you wouldn’t have brought me here and locked me in this… this place, knowing I didn’t want to be here. How is that caring more for others than yourself?”

“It is precisely because I—and everyone here at the Court—care for your welfare that you are here.”

“You mean the welfare of my baby, don’t you?”

“That, too, and another part of the explanation.”

Aliisza snorted in derision.

“If you don’t wish to hear it,-1 shall leave you to your thoughts,” Tauran said in response to her gesture, “but you asked.”

“I’m beginning to regret it,” Aliisza said. “Leave me alone. There is nothing you can do to comfort me. You and your tribunal consigned me to be here, knowing full well that it is a torture to me to be alone, with no creature contact.”

“In the hopes that you would come to see the power and joy of making others happy, rather than just yourself.”

Aliisza laughed again, but it was bitter. “I am a girl of carnal pleasures. I crave the delights of the senses. The touch, the smell of others nearby. They experience what I lust for and feel some joy and happiness, too.”

“That is a false joy, short-lived, and such a tiny fraction of what is possible if you’d only open your heart to—”

“Enough!” Aliisza interrupted. She spun to face the celestial across a low-walled pool where a fountain with

the statues of two human children at play bubbled in the cool night air. “Do not preach to me! I was sent here to contemplate. There was nothing in the judge’s words about being tormented by the likes of you!”

Tauran spread his hands in acquiescence and remained silent, though he did not leave.

Aliisza could feel him watching her as she sat down upon the wall of the fountain, fighting to keep from doing the unthinkable. She would not cry in front of the angel. She could not let him see that.

To divert her feelings, she dropped a hand down to the surface of the water and trailed her fingers through it, making wave patterns and watching them mingle and vanish. From where she sat, the moon reflected off the water, though it was distorted and wavered incessantly. She thought about the child that had been growing inside her, thought about all the times in her recent past when she had been reluctant, afraid of harm, and at last understood why. She felt a sense of cold emptiness inside her because the child was gone. Or rather, she was gone from her child. She nearly gave in, then, nearly began to cry despite her struggle not to.

Tauran touched the surface of the water on the opposite side of the pool, and the moon faded from sight in its reflection. Instead, Aliisza saw a different kind of light radiating from within the pool, a warm, flickering light that she recognized as that of lamps. Despite the waves on the water, the image steadied and became clear.

The alu gasped. She saw herself in that image. Not her reflection, but a picture of her, lying still upon a bed, covered by a soft sheet. A figure, a creature with the facial features of a human woman, beautiful and serene, stood beside Aliisza’s form, gazing down at her. Like Tauran, the woman had white feathery wings, and she wore the same style of white draping

garments. She turned and walked out of the image, leaving Aliisza’s body in full view.

“My body,” Aliisza said, half to herself. “My corpse, my husk.” She swallowed the thick lump she felt in her throat. “With my child inside. The child you took away from me, that I will never see,” she snarled, and turned away.

“You asked before how I could explain the dichotomy of my benevolence. How I could care for you more than I care for myself, and yet do this unspeakable thing to you. There, in that image, lies your answer, Aliisza. All beings deserve my care, my compassion. Some accept it, embrace it, return it. Others do not. When those others force me to choose, I choose to defend the oppressed, the victims. That is the way of Tyr, his teachings.”

“So, who will defend me from your oppression? Who will grant me relief from my victimization?”

“When you choose to deny others the respect and compassion they deserve, you fall outside of the circle. You are no longer on equal footing.”

“No longer worthy, no longer eligible for your care and compassion,” the alu spat with all the sarcasm she could muster. “It must feel good, being so perfect.”

Tauran’s sigh sounded tired, full of regrets. “I will not debate this with you any longer, Aliisza. You chose the path you have followed. Only you can find a route to a new path, through your actions and deeds. When you understand that, when you are ready to change, to show those around you the same consideration that you would want, then I will be here, ready to guide you. Until then, you will remain here and contemplate what it means.”

Aliisza felt a pang of fear surge through her. She realized that, despite his arrogant superiority and obvious disdain for her, she did not want Tauran to leave her alone. “When will

you return?” she asked, even though she really wanted to ask him to stay. She couldn’t ask, though. She refused to appear that weak to the angel.

“Soon,” he replied. “But you will not be alone, Aliisza. Others are coming. And you must face them,” he said, and the alu heard a warning in those last words. It sent a shiver down her spine.