Wizard's Holiday, New Millennium Edition (41 page)

“Not too long, I hope,” Kit said.

Druvah’s smile was reassuringly ironic. “Long enough,” he said. “But I don’t mind.” He bowed to Esemeli, and It eyed him with an expression of reserved disdain.

“You did a good job hiding your kernel,” Nita said.

“It seemed necessary,” Druvah said. “Under the circumstances, it seemed wise to keep it in an ambivalent state: not quite in the real world, in Time; not all the way into the deeper world, out of Time; but oscillating between them, a million times every moment, so that its location was always more a possibility than a definite thing.”

“Uncertainty,” Nita said to Kit. “The way you get it in atomic structure, with the electrons more or less certain to be in a given area, but never really just in one spot… ”

“That quality of matter I borrowed for this wizardry, yes,” Druvah said. “And for myself as well, so that I could keep an eye on what our destiny was bound to.” He looked at Nita and Kit. “But where is the last wizard?”

They looked at each other. “Well…” Nita said.

“Unfortunately,” Esemeli said, “she will not be coming.”

Druvah looked at her in a shock so stately it closely resembled composure.

“The strangers on whom you pinned all your hopes,” Esemeli said, “unfortunately have given your wizard the fright of her life, by telling her the truth. A choice irony. She’s seen what the Telling showed her of their world and wants nothing to do with it, or them. Or, by extension,
you,
Druvah. She even made herself unavailable enough to them this morning that they couldn’t be warned in time about what they were so eager to do.”

Esemeli turned Its attention to Nita and Kit and smiled at them sweetly… a little too sweetly. “You, at least,” the Lone Power said to Nita, “will recognize the source of the Whispering you’ve heard in the nights. This is the Whispering’s core, the place into which the souls of the Alaalid die, when they die into the world. Here, by virtue of the Choice the Alaalids made, everything is preserved forever as it was when it arrived. Think of it as a sketchy little version of Timeheart.” The furious, hating twist It put on the word gave Nita an abrupt shiver.
“Too
sketchy, though. And also by virtue of that Choice, nothing that comes here ever leaves here, whether it comes of its own free will or not.”

Esemeli directed the full force of that infuriating smile on Nita. “You should have asked fewer questions about how soon you could get where you were going,” the Lone One said, “and more about whether you could get out afterward. But most to the point, you forgot the line in the Binding Oath about not allowing
you
to err by inaction.”

Nita felt all the blood run straight down out of her face, leaving her staggered and shivering. She and Kit looked over at Druvah.

The most powerful of the ancient Alaalid wizards nodded regretfully. “What It says is true,” Druvah said. “I have no power to change it. And the one who
has
that power has not come with you, as I had hoped she would.” His voice was filled with regret, and Nita’s mouth went dry with fear. “Indeed, that was my only hope. But the future has not turned out the way I thought it would. It seems my people must remain as they are. And here we must all stay, until the day after forever… ”

The Lone One’s laughter began to echo in that bright place, filling it, and drowning out all other sound, even the sound of the Whispering.

***

The wizardry brought Dairine, Roshaun, Filif, and Sker’ret out in the midst of a hurricane of fire.

Not
exactly
in the middle of it,
Dairine thought, trying desperately to keep hold of her nerves, for the status readouts hanging in front of her own part of the wizardry told her exactly what was going on out there, and it terrified her. It was one thing, as she’d once done, to sink a skinny little spatial slide into this nuclear fury and pull out a pencil-sized stream of molten mass. When she’d done that, she’d been dealing with a star’s core, and the core was a placid pool on a windless night compared to the place where they now found themselves.

By definition, the tachocline was turbulent. Its name meant “the place where the speed changes,” and it was where the more placid motion but more terrible temperatures of the radiative zone below met the boiling madness of the convective zone above. The tachocline slid between the two zones like ball bearings rubbed between two hands, in wide belts and roiling spots like the atmosphere of Jupiter, but at wind speeds that made Jupiter’s seem tame. And “wind” seemed a pitiful word for the insensate power that was raging around them in wildly varying directions. The solar medium was no denser than water here—but even water would become a deadly weapon when blasting past you at twenty times the speed of sound and at a temperature of two million degrees.

Filif was pouring power into the wizardry at a prodigious rate, but even so, the wizardry itself was suffering under these atrocious conditions. It wouldn’t hold forever. And it was being buffeted around like a Ping-Pong ball in the terrible, constantly shifting pressure. Through all this, Roshaun was trying to get a reading on the lowest levels of the tachocline, but Dairine saw that every second the readings changed more violently. The layer was like a blanket being wildly shaken up and down by people holding it at the edges. Until it calmed, there was no chance that they were going to be able to do what they needed to do. And it was not going to calm—

Come on,
Roshaun said to the Sun in the Speech. He spoke silently to be heard over the roar.
Come on, cousin! What are you waiting for? Why all this trouble? You know what you need to do. Otherwise, life on all your planets is going to become problematic. Give us some help, here. Let us help you sort yourself out!

The Sun raged around him; the tachocline bucked and heaved like a live thing, stung by the approaching magnetic anomalies swinging around from the far side of the Sun, the skin of the border layer twitching and shuddering. Dairine started to hear something she never would have imagined it was possible to hear: the Sun itself speaking, like a sentient thing. It was using the Speech, but she couldn’t understand the words. It wanted something; it was trying to tell her, but she couldn’t understand—

That’s impossible. I
have
to be able to understand; it’s the
Speech!
What’s the matter?

There’s something wrong here,
she heard Sker’ret saying in her mind.
Something’s interfering with the magnetic flow at this level.

The bubblestorm area?
Dairine asked.

No. A darkness…

Sunspots?
Dairine said.

No! Something else. But dark
—

Under them, the tachocline heaved ever more violently.
It won’t stay still!
Dairine shouted at Roshaun.
How’re you going to get the worldgate down in there long enough to bleed the mass off if it keeps heaving around like this?

There was a long silence from Roshaun.
There are ways,
he said conversationally.

Something about the tone of that thought brought Dairine’s head up, made her look him in the eye. But he wouldn’t meet her eye.

Roshaun?

You know what I am,
he said to the Sun, ignoring her.

A blast of reply.

Yes,
Roshaun said.
A Guarantor.

Another blast. Dairine was torn between envy and unease. He could understand it and she couldn’t. It wasn’t
fair—

Sker’ret,
Roshaun said,
detach the worldgate for me.

“What?”
Dairine shouted.

If Roshaun heard the thought behind the shout, he didn’t betray it. At any rate, the way the roar of the Sun was coming through even the wizardry now, there was no point in using normal speech. Sker’ret said three words, very quickly, and the black shadow that was the worldgate, reduced to a thin scrap of grayish fog in this terrible light, leaped straight into Roshaun’s hands as if he’d called it.

What are you thinking of?
Dairine demanded.
Let me help you
—

You need to stay here and let me do this,
Roshaun said.

But if I can just
—

You can’t,
Roshaun said, looking at her with that infuriating, amused expression.
But then that’s what “Guarantor” means. If the world can’t pay the price.. if the people around you can’t pay the price…
you
do.

The price? No!
Dairine said.
No! You don’t even like my little planet
—
you said so
—

No,
Roshaun said.
Which is possibly the best of all possible reasons to do this.

He stepped out of the wizardry.

“No,” Dairine whispered. “No!
Roshaun!”

Roshaun vanished in the fire.

In the heart of Alaalu, Kit looked at Nita in complete horror. “You mean
that’s it?”

She looked over at him, shivering, and nodded. “I think It’s right,” Nita said, shamefaced. “We’re stuck here… ”

“You were so earnest,” the Lone One said. “And so careless. And so
patronizing.
You have deserved this so profoundly, I can barely express it. A failed fragment of the Lone Power, am I? Oh, very failed. But not so failed that this species will have any further chance to go on into whatever lovely bodiless stage of evolution might potentially await them. Their only wizard will remember her betrayal until the day she dies, and will warn all her successors never to be tempted to consider Repeal. Generation after generation of them will live out their happy little lives and die into the world. They’ll keep on doing that until their star goes cold and their species oh-so-gracefully surrenders as a whole to what they will wrongly consider Fate. So much for
their
intended glory; the One is just going to have to do without them…”

Esemeli smiled sweetly at them. “And as for me, not only do I have all
these
poor frozen fools to amuse me the few idle aeons until Time’s end, but now I also have
you
two to laugh at for the rest of this universe’s eternity. And your faces to entertain me as your souls writhe endlessly for the mistakes you made, the loved ones who’ll never see you again. Priceless,” Esemeli said,
“priceless!”

Kit and Nita looked at each other helplessly as the Lone Power’s laughter once again drowned out the Whispering, echoing all through that place—

—and then Esemeli suddenly cried out,
“Ow!
—
”

—because something had dropped a large heavy stick of ironwood straight onto the Lone Power’s head.

Everyone looked up in shock, most particularly Esemeli. Her face went in a second from an expression of brief unexpected pain to one of terrible fury. Standing there in the air above them all, looking down, was Ponch… and holding the other end of his wizardly leash, also looking down at that immeasurable assembly with an expression of relief and wonder, was Quelt.

The two of them came walking down the air together, and everyone looked at them, most specifically Esemeli. There was a curse in Its eyes, but It said nothing.

Quelt and Ponch stepped down onto the mountaintop and walked into the heart of that great gathering.
She was wondering where you were,
Ponch said to Nita and Kit.
So was I. So we came looking.

Kit started to smile.
We’re not the only one who made some mistakes,
he said privately to Nita. Aloud, he said to Esemeli, “You know,
you’re
to blame for this.”

It turned to glare at him. “If you hadn’t hurried us along and had waited for Ponch to catch up with me,” Kit said, “he’d be stuck in here with the rest of us. But, no, you had to get going and get us nice and trapped.” Kit glanced over at Nita. “That Binding Oath is really something,” he said, “if it makes the Lone Power help us even when It’s trying to screw us up.”

“Or else,” Nita said, looking over at the Lone One with an expression that was difficult to read, “someone’s found a really good way to do the right things without
looking
like they were.” And she smiled just the slightest smile. “Didn’t somebody say they were getting a lot more mileage out of ambivalence these days?”

The Lone One turned away. “This will only work this once,” It said. “Make the most of it. When she releases me, you may later come to regret all this. In fact, I guarantee that you will.”

Kit and Nita turned their attention back to Ponch and Quelt. Everyone else in that place was staring at them in astonishment, and the one looking hardest at them, though with the least look of being surprised, was Druvah. “Yes,” he said at last. “I foresaw this happening. But, I have to admit, not quite
this
way… ”

Quelt, for her own part, hardly gave Druvah more than a glance at first. She went straight over to Kit and Nita and took first Kit, then Nita, by the shoulders in her species’ greeting. “I am so sorry,” she said. “I treated you so badly when you were only telling me the truth. I feel terrible about it. And I felt terrible before, as well!
I
got you started on all this!”

Nita stared at Quelt, confused. “I thought
I
got
you
started on it!”

“No,” Quelt said. “You just said things idly that made me think more about things I’d been thinking already. Remember how I said that there was something missing? I hadn’t been really serious about it before, but after you said you had the same thoughts, they started to matter much more. When the thoughts were inside, I was discounting them. They didn’t seem important or real. Yet you were so different, and the place you come from is so different… and you still had those feelings. That was the key.”