Denner's Wreck

Chapter Eight

“…still he refused to give up. He chased her ever deeper into the forest, never gaining a centimeter, but never quite losing sight of her, either.

"At last he collapsed, exhausted, beside a river. He lay there gasping for breath, dipping his hands in the water and cooling his face with them. And the mysterious woman appeared among the trees on the far side, calmly watching him.

"'Hello,’ she called to him. ‘Were you looking for me?'

"He just stared, too tired to call out to her, and nodded weakly.

"'Well,’ she said, ‘here I am. Come and get me.'

"'Witch,’ he called, drawing strength from his anger, ‘you know I haven't the strength to swim the river!'

"'Then I suppose I must come to you,’ she said, and she rose up into the air and transformed herself into a bird. And in that form, she flew across the stream to him, and then transformed herself back into a woman.

"When he saw this magical shape-shifting, Harlen knew that this was no mere witch-woman. Even the most powerful witches in legend needed spells and chants and potions for the very simplest of transformations, and surely, to take the form of a bird cannot be simple. Harlen knew that he faced either a Power or a demon. And when she knelt down over him, her long red hair brushing his chest, he was afraid, and called out, ‘Get away, demon!'

"'Demon!’ she said, as she stepped back in surprise. ‘You think I'm a demon?'

"'What else could you be?’ Harlen asked.

"She laughed, and said, ‘Oh, I can be anything I please, anything at all. Shall I be a demon for you? Do you want a demon lover?’ And she was suddenly a demon, three meters tall and scaly black, her eyes pits of fire and her fingers curving talons. ‘Or something more comely?’ And she was a woman again, but a different woman, tall and slender, no longer naked, but wearing a gown of spun silver embroidered in gold. ‘Or would you prefer a simple companion, and not a lover at all?’ And suddenly a man much like himself stood there, clad in buckskin, smiling down at him.

"'Who are you?’ he asked, terrified.

"She did not answer immediately, but returned to her own shape, naked once more, and looked down at him. ‘You know,’ she said, ‘if you're too tired to swim the river, then I can't hope for much from you as a lover, can I? And if you think me a demon, you probably don't want me at all. I suppose I should just go and leave you alone, shouldn't I?'

"Before he could answer, she vanished, disappeared into the empty air.

"Her voice lingered, though, and said, ‘As for who I am, I'm called Imp, but I'm not a demon at all.’ And then she laughed, and her laughter gradually faded away until there was nothing left at all.

"And although he was tired he got to his feet and ran after her, first one way, then another, looking for some trace of her. But he found nothing, and he never saw her again, though he looked for her many a time, spending many, many wakes and even whole seasons wandering through the forest in search of her…"

– from the tales of Atheron the Storyteller

Geste's calls were not going well. Bredon watched and listened closely, but said nothing.

Gold the Delver said that Brenner deserved anything he got and it was all one of Geste's pranks, anyway. This said, he broke contact.

Lady Tsien giggled and flirted and refused to take Geste seriously, until at last Geste broke the connection himself. Bredon was fascinated by her appearance; although she looked human, she had small folds at the corners of her eyes, and an odd color to her skin.

Hsin of the River said that it was none of his business if Brenner had finally aggravated Thaddeus beyond bearing. His skin was an interesting shade of brown, and his image was accompanied by a flock of tiny, vividly blue birds.

The Nymph was not home, and could not readily be located; Bredon regretted not getting a look at the legendary beauty. She was thought to be visiting the Skyler, but the Skyland did not answer.

Before them the battle still raged, though darkness had fallen. The weapons used by both sides lit the skies in intermittent flashes, and in that flickering, polychrome glow Bredon saw several of the flitting silver drones tumble from the skies. Others were blown to fragments as he watched. Whenever their numbers seemed to be diminishing, though, a dozen more arrived to take the place of those that had been lost.

When Geste asked for Aulden the Technician a young woman's heart-shaped face appeared, framed in red hair and wearing a brilliant grin. Bredon noticed that despite the darkness she appeared to be in full sunlight.

“Hello, Imp,” Geste said. “Could I speak to Aulden? I need his help."

Bredon had assumed that the woman was a servant of some sort; hearing Geste address her by the name of another Power was disconcerting. He looked more closely.

She was unquestionably beautiful, without a blemish of any sort, but she lacked the radiant glory that marked Lady Sunlight as something beyond mortal flesh. Her face was that of a lovely little toy, not a goddess.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Geste,” she replied with a comical pout. “He's not here. Is there anything I can do? I'd love to help you, whatever it is.” She smiled fetchingly.

Geste smiled back, but only for an instant. “I appreciate that,” he said, “but I think we'll need Aulden, too."

“Well, he went to do some work for Thaddeus a few days ago. He should be back any time, or you could call him there…"

“For Thaddeus?"

“That's right."

Geste hesitated, troubled. Imp noticed immediately, and her smile vanished, her green eyes suddenly troubled.

“Geste, what's wrong?” she asked.

“It's Thaddeus-or Thaddeus and Brenner, anyway. Thaddeus has an entire fleet of war machines attacking the High Castle."

“War machines?"

“High-powered drones. One of them attacked me, as well. I think that must be the work he wanted Aulden for, building war machines."

“Oh, but Aulden wouldn't!” Imp said, shocked.

“Not willingly, I'm sure,” Geste answered grimly.

“Not…? Geste, he wouldn't… I mean… Geste, if this is one of your tricks, I swear I'll have Aulden sabotage every machine you own!"

“It's no trick. I promise you, Imp, it's not a trick. And it's not just Aulden I'm worried about, or Brenner; Sheila and Sunlight and Rawl were all last heard from at the High Castle, and Khalid and O are missing, last heard from at Fortress Holding."

“Geste, you can't… really? All of them?"

“Really. All of them."

The heart-shaped face turned for a moment, giving Bredon a glimpse of thick waves of reddish hair; Geste waited.

Imp turned back and said, “They are all missing. If this is a trick, Geste, it's a good one-and it's terrifying me. If it's a trick, Geste, please, tell me now. I don't like being frightened."

“I wish I could, Imp, but it's true."

“Thaddeus is really attacking Brenner? Seriously?"

“It looks serious to me; send something to check for yourself, if you like."

“Have you talked to Shadowdark?"

“Shadowdark?” Geste was plainly startled, but only for an instant. “Shadowdark! No, I haven't; I'll call him."

“You call him, then; maybe he can talk sense to Thaddeus. I'll try and get through to Brenner, and maybe some of the others.” Imp's image vanished.

The name “Shadowdark” was unfamiliar to Bredon, and he thought it had an ominous sound. “Who is Shadowdark?” he asked.

“Thaddeus's father,” Geste replied. He started to say something to the floater, but Bredon distracted him with a touch on the sleeve. The Trickster looked up at the mortal, startled at his audacity.

“His father? He has a father?” Bredon asked.

“Of course he has a father,” Geste snapped, annoyed. “And he had a mother once, too, but she's dead. We all have parents, like anyone else. Where did you think we came from?"

“I don't know, I… I…” Bredon trailed off into silence, and Geste ordered the floater to call Shadowdark.

A moment of silence ensued, during which time Bredon tried, and failed, to gather the courage to ask more questions. He was consumed with curiosity about what was happening around him, and with concern for Lady Sunlight, but Geste was obviously worried and irritable and in no mood to answer his inquiries.

Instead, he watched the battle around the High Castle. It continued unabated, and as far as he could tell neither side was gaining any advantage.

“My apologies, sir,” the floater said at last, “but Lord Shadowdark was outside, unattended. A messenger was sent."

An instant later another floating face appeared.

Bredon had thought he was beyond surprise, but this face shocked him. The other Powers had all looked young or perhaps middle-aged, and had been clean and strong and handsome in different ways. None had seemed all that different from mortal humans.

Shadowdark's face was misshapen and pale, the left side bloated while the right sagged, both sides hideously wrinkled, more like some bizarre fungus than the face of an old man. Gruesome scars puckered the skin in a dozen places, tangled among the wrinkles. Patches of black stubble were scattered along his cheeks and jaw, but he had no real beard. Straight black hair hung limply past his shoulders.

He spoke, harshly making a demand, but the words were strange.

Geste replied, using equally strange words, and Bredon realized that for the first time in his life he was hearing another language spoken.

“What is he saying?” he asked, interrupting Geste.

Geste waved him away.

“If I may be permitted to translate, sir, I would be glad to do so,” the floater said.

Geste glanced up. “Go ahead,” he said. Then he continued speaking in the foreign tongue, ignoring both Bredon and the floater.

The floater explained, “Lord Shadowdark demanded to know who was calling him, and why, and Mr. Geste identified himself, and apologized for the intrusion. Mr. Geste is now describing the situation he found at the High Castle.” It paused, and then said, in a flawless imitation of Geste's own voice, “…I hoped that you might be able to intervene. Thaddeus thinks very little of the rest of us, rightfully considering us to be relative youngsters lacking experience, but I am sure that he still respects you. He may well feel some degree of filial devotion, even after so long a time. If you would consent to speak to him, to attempt to make peace between Brenner and himself, we would consider it a great favor, and would gladly repay you however we could."

Shadowdark spoke, and the floater said, in a voice that failed to duplicate Shadowdark's in anything but pitch, “You told these stinking machines to drag me in here for that?"

“Yes, sir,” Geste and the floater's imitation of Geste replied, in two different tongues.

“You're an idiot. It's none of my business. I don't care what you people do to each other; Thaddeus and what's-his-name can kill each other if they like. Even if I did care, I haven't had anything to do with Thaddeus in… in centuries, probably. Ask a machine, I don't know. He hasn't wanted anything to do with me since I left Alpha Imperium. Anything I could say would probably just annoy him."

Shadowdark's image started to fade, then returned to solidity long enough to say something the floater translated as, “By the way, don't bother me again. I won't answer."

The face vanished.

“Damn,” Geste said. “It's impossible.” He reached out and grabbed an invisible support, then leaned forward and rested his head on his arm.

Bredon was baffled. “Who is this Shadowdark?” he asked, directing his question somewhere between Geste and the floater. “Is he a Power?"

Geste waved wearily at the floater without raising his head. “You tell him,” he said. “I need to think.” He paused, then lifted his eyes to the “window” for a moment and added, “And while you're telling him and I'm thinking, take us home."