Priestess of War (The Bowl of Souls Book 10), page 10
As he did when speaking with Artemus, he visualized the two bonds in his mind as if he were standing in front of them. Whereas the connection to the old specter was large enough for him to walk through, these bonds were barely large enough for him to fit an arm through.
Testing that theory. He reached an imaginary arm, really a tendril of thought, through the hole in the bond that led to his left sword. Peace? Do you understand me?
He felt a pulse. A slight change in the sword’s usual calm, yet thirsty demeanor. His mental fingers touched something hard and unyielding.
Sir Hilt says that I should try and speak to you directly. He says I should explain what it is I need from you. He paused and thought he felt his connection with the sword become wider. Encouraged, he pushed his arm further inside. The hard surface inside was smooth and cylindrical. What I need is for you to listen to my thoughts. There are times that I will not want you to take my emotions and I need to be able to depend on you to obey.
The hole opened wider and Justan was able to push even more of his thoughts inside. He was able to reach his fingers around the object and he realized what it was. A sword grip. An idea occurred to him. He sent a command through that mental representation of his hand. This is how it feels when I want you to stop taking my emotions. Do you understand?
The sword grip dissolved from within his fingers. Justan frowned, unsure if the sword had understood.
I think you are on the right track, said a cold whisper.
Artemus? He hadn’t been able to contact his great grandfather since convincing him to freeze the ground during the Troll Mother’s attack. Justan withdrew from his connection to the sword and turned to face the sound of the voice.
To his surprise, the old man was standing right behind him. Usually, he was only able to communicate through a peep hole in the barrier that walled off the Scralag from the rest of the bond. The most Justan saw was a flash of eyes or frosted hair but now Artemus looked much like he had the day Justan had first met him.
Justan’s great grandfather looked to be middle-aged, with thick brown hair only lightly streaked with gray and a short beard that was thick across his chin, but left his lips bare. He wore a blue and gold striped robe and his eyes were the color of ice.
The old specter glanced around, reaching out to touch the cloudy walls of the bond. So this is what you see when you imagine yourself navigating the bond. It’s quite bare of decoration, but still, the detail. I must say, to build a mental construct of this complexity while maintaining so many bonds is an impressive feat. Quite an act of mental dexterity.
I am glad to see you awake and active, Justan said. Things had been so quiet on your side of the bond, I was growing worried.
Yes. After I used my power, the Scralag and I had a bit of a tussle. It wore us both out, I’m afraid, Artemus said apologetically. The old wizard’s thoughts seemed remarkably clear.
But it seems you came out on top, Justan said, pleased. I knew you could do it.
Hello, cold wizard! came Gwyrtha’s cheerful thoughts.
Greetings, Gwyrtha, Artemus replied. I assume Deathclaw is listening in as well?
I am, wizard, Deathclaw said warily.
In the beginning, most of Justan’s communications with his great grandfather had been just between the two of them. But as Artemus’ periods of lucidity had grown, he had begun to converse with the other bonded. Fist was the only one he had not spoken to directly. The moment had never been right. Perhaps that would change tonight.
Artemus, I will be contacting Fist soon. Would you like to try joining in? Justan asked.
Indeed. I would enjoy that. I haven’t known many ogres in my time and those that I did most often had to be dispatched, the old wizard said.
Artemus’ thoughts very much reminded Justan of some of the other older wizards he had known. Master Latva in particular. He even had a dry sense of humor that came out sometimes.
What woke you? Justan asked, wondering if there was something he could replicate.
I was alerted earlier when some . . . interesting emotions flooded the bond. You are lucky, my boy, to have a love that fierce, Artemus replied. I must say, I feel more awake than I have in a long time.
Oh, Justan replied, his cheeks coloring.
It brought back memories, the old wizard said with a dusty chuckle. Begazzi and I had quite the wild courtship.
Is that so? Justan said.
Oh yes, Artemus said. She was quite a bit older than me and had never been in a relationship before. What a wildfire she was. She was already a bonding wizard at the time and her thoughts when we were together used to drive old Bill crazy. For the longest time, he’d never look me in the eye.
Justan let out an embarrassed chuckle. I . . . see.
What kind of thoughts were these, that would make a dwarf avoid you? Deathclaw wondered.
Like the ones in Justan’s dreams, Gwyrtha suggested.
Yes. I imagine they were, said Artemus with a laugh. Though I imagine Justan would prefer us to block those sorts of feelings out. Old Bill learned to do so.
Well, I’m glad to have you awake and with us, Justan said. He tried to change the subject. Uh, when I was trying to speak with Peace you said you thought I was on the right track?
Yes! Artemus said. It seemed to me that you were making good progress.
How could you tell? Justan asked,
I had a naming dagger of my own. Her name was Whisper. She had no magic of her own before the Bowl runed her, but she was much more than a simple tool all the same. She was a conduit for my magic. A great means of defense and attack as well. I had several spells I used her for. Artemus frowned, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Though my memory slips a bit when I try to recall them.
Did you have to go through something similarly humiliating when you first tried to communicate with this weapon? Deathclaw asked.
Uh, no, Artemus said. But from what I understand, each one has a temperament of their own. Some of my colleagues had a devil of a time. Don’t worry, my boy. The bond was reacting to you and that means you were making progress.
At least he wasn’t the only one with difficulty. Justan cocked his head. Whatever happened to Whisper? When Locksher found your . . . remains under that boulder, he didn’t find a dagger. Just your book and spectacles.
I’m afraid that is because my killer stole her, Artemus said and a frosty breeze rippled through the bond, ruffling the old wizard’s hair. I can sense her even now. The connection is weak, but she is someplace north and west of here.
Do you know who it was that did this? Deathclaw asked.
Justan’s curiosity rose. From the way Artemus’ body had been crushed under that cluster of boulders, he had always assumed that his great grandfather’s death was the result of a battle with another wizard or perhaps an attack from a giant.
Artemus closed his eyes and the chill breeze blew a moment longer before he responded. The events of that day are blurry in my mind.
What if we could find your dagger and retrieve it? Perhaps having your naming dagger nearby would help you regain your memories, Justan suggested.
The specter gave a doubtful grunt. That is . . . possible, I suppose. However, my link to her is weak, corroded over centuries. The fact that there is a link at all is a mystery to me. It is likely the blade cracked upon my death. That is the fate of any weapon runed by the bowl when its owner dies.
But you did not pass on, Deathclaw reminded him. Your spirit lingered.
Artemus chuckled. True. So stubborn was I. So foolishly determined to live up to my part in John’s prophecy.
Then there is still hope, Justan said. I promise you. After this is all over, we will go and search for it.
Artemus patted his arm. That is a kind gesture, my boy. But it is an irresponsible promise. I made those in my youth myself and I will not hold you to it. Too much is unknown for you to guarantee future plans.
I still intend to do so, Justan insisted.
Justan keeps his promises, Gwyrtha said in agreement.
We shall see what the future brings, Artemus allowed with a smile. Perhaps if I am able to regain my presence of mind, I will be able to see Begazzi again. That would be enough.
Bringing you to see my great grandmother is something I can absolutely guarantee, Justan said.
The old specter seemed pleased by that. The breeze blowing through the bond warmed, becoming merely cool. Very well. That is a promise I’ll accept. Now. Let us cease this dilly dallying. The elemental has been quiet so far, but I cannot guarantee how much longer that shall last.
Justan nodded. Depending on how his day had gone; more specifically, if and when the evil in the mountains had attacked, the ogre could already be settling down for the night. But before I reach out to him, you should know what occurred while you were sleeping.
Justan sent the wizard a long string of memories, catching him up on the events that had occurred in the mountains and the revelation of the dark power behind the evil. The transfer of information took only moments.
Oh my, the wizard said, frowning. Something about the situation seems so familiar.
Is there anything you can think of that could help Fist understand what he’s up against? Justan asked hopefully.
I must think on it, Artemus said, stroking his beard.
I’ll reach out to Fist, then.
Usually Justan moved through the bond to find his connection with Fist. This time he reached out and used his thoughts to pull the connection to him. A hole opened up in the cloudy wall before him and he poured his thoughts into it. His surroundings disappeared and he saw only the milky whiteness of the bond.
The distance between them, an obstacle in the beginning, was merely a nuisance now. Though there were still obstacles; things like the transfer of energy or healing at this distance wasn’t practical, but as long as they both concentrated on it the connection came easy to them now.
He sensed that the ogre was lying down on his side conversing with someone. Or actually, Justan realized, kissing someone. Maryanne. It had to be. Briefly, Justan considered waiting to talk to him until later. But there was no telling how long Artemus would be this awake.
Fist, Justan sent.
The ogre jerked. Oh! Uh, a minute!
He said something to Maryanne, before rolling to his back. The ogre pushed his thoughts through the bond. Sorry.
I could see you were busy, Justan replied with a smile. Push your thoughts through a little further. I want to show you something.
Justan pulled most of his thoughts back through the bond, leaving just enough of his presence inside to keep his connection with Fist active. He reappeared in the section of the bond where Artemus stood, then focused on the wall. The cloudy substance that made up the bond formed into a likeness of the ogre’s head. It was as if Fist’s face were made of cotton.
Fist, can you see me? Justan asked.
The cloudy face blinked. Justan? This is new. I didn’t know we could do this.
I’m learning many things today, Justan replied. Fist, Artemus is with us today.
Hello, Ogre, the wizard replied.
Hello! Fist said excitedly. I am glad you are awake enough to talk.
I’m here too! Gwyrtha said. And Deathclaw!
The raptoid grunted.
Hello, everyone! Fist said.
So tell me, Fist, Justan said. Did you have an eventful day?
No attacks, Fist replied.
Things had been quiet since the night Wizard Locksher had invaded the mind of the evil. Locksher was worried that the lack of attacks meant that the Dark Prophet’s servant was planning something big.
We spent the day building up our defenses, Fist said. It was hard work, but nice. It has been good for everyone to have time to heal. Have you learned anything that could help?
Justan looked to the wizard. Artemus?
I am not certain. Something Justan mentioned keeps sticking in my mind. It’s this red spirit magic that your friend Locksher saw. It does not make any sense to me. Spirit magic is always in shades of gray depending on the intent of the user. The only red magic I know is fire and there is no way that this servant of the Dark Prophet could be using elemental magic to control the mind of that evil menace.
Yes. Sarine was puzzled by it too, Fist said.
Was she? The wizard said, his eyebrows rising. Oh, right. You are there with that young gnome she is bonded to. Tell me, does Begazzi know of my existence yet?
Fist’s cloudy face grimaced. I don’t think Darlan has told her yet. So I haven’t told Maryanne.
Oh, Artemus replied, disappointed.
Tell her, Justan decided suddenly. My mother does not have a right to keep this a secret. Sarine should know that Artemus is here.
I’ll get in trouble, Fist worried.
I’ll take the blame, Justan said.
Fist sighed. Okay. I’ll tell Maryanne when we are done here.
How exciting! Artemus said. And a bit disconcerting. How shall she react? What shall she expect. Oh my. What do I expect?
I don’t know the answer to that, Justan said truthfully. He could understand the wizard’s trepidation. It wasn’t as if they could renew their old relationship. He was just a spirit now. Right? He didn’t envy either of them. Have you changed your mind? Do you want us to continue keeping it a secret?
No? No. Tell away. It is for the best. Tell away, Fist. I shall await Begazzi’s response eagerly.
Fist nodded. So, Justan, is there anything else I need to know?
Well, I have learned some interesting things about my swords. He sent Fist everything that had happened that day, leaving out only the small details of his encounter with Jhonate that afternoon. I am still having difficulty getting Peace to do what I want, though.
But you are learning and that is good! Fist said. Soon you can heal other people besides us.
Deathclaw hissed a laugh. Fist! Only you would think of stabbing people to heal them.
Like I did with Talon, Justan said. It was an angle he had not thought too much on. A way around the restrictions that the Scralag placed on his magic. The possibilities were intriguing. You know, being able to heal someone from within the bond gives me a distinct advantage. I can see and manipulate wounds and ailments in a way that would be much more difficult for other wizards, no matter how skilled.
I think it’s a great idea, Fist said.
Me too! Gwyrtha agreed.
But you are missing some of the possible applications, Deathclaw argued. If you can enter someone’s body to heal, you can also enter it to kill. Pick them apart. Render your enemies to fluids!
Justan recoiled at the idea. No!
That’s quite the reaction, Artemus observed. Why does the thought unsettle you so? Deathclaw is merely being practical.
Justan didn’t reply right away, struggling to find the words to explain.
I understand, Justan, said Fist. You think it feels too much like what Mellinda and Stardeon did.
Justan sighed. That was it. Thank you, Fist. You have a way of seeing right to the truth of things. That’s what it is. Mellinda and Stardeon spent years trying to find a way past the rules of the bond. Why should I be eager to do so?
I see, said Artemus, nodding sagely. It seems like cheating to you.
Justan shook his head. No. It’s more than that. The idea of it seems evil. Creating a bond with Peace to force my way into someone’s mind? Steal their knowledge? That’s how Mellinda used her powers. Using the bond to forcibly change people’s bodies? That’s how Stardeon’s rings work.
Deathclaw snorted. Human morality! I still do not understand it.
What would you have me do, Deathclaw? Explode people from within like Ewzad Vriil? Maybe while I’m at it I should find some dragons and change their bodies so that I can use them as assassins!
The raptoid hissed in affront.
But you’re Justan, Gwyrtha said. You wouldn’t be like them.
She is right, Justan. You would never, Fist said.
Wouldn’t I? Justan growled. I did it to Talon! I hated her too much to accept that she was a messenger. I enjoyed stabbing her. I went into her mind, expecting to find that she was hiding her motives, but even after I knew the truth I could not stop. I peeled her mind open. Against her will, I took every memory she had, no matter how horrible, no matter how much she wanted it hidden!
He swallowed, his thoughts thick with emotion as he continued, It was only after I understood why she had become the way she was that I realized what I had done. I tried to do my best to fix her after that, but for all I know she is even more broken now.
There was silence in the bond for several moments. Finally, a cool hand fell on Justan’s shoulder. Artemus’ ice blue eyes looked directly into his.
You are right to fear becoming like them, my boy. After all, both Stardeon and Mellinda started with good intentions. She wanted to end a bad relationship with one of her bonded and he wanted to help her. If they, some of the most intelligent and powerful wizards of their time, could go bad, why not you?
I’m no better than them, Justan said.
Yes you are! Gwyrtha insisted.
Justan shook his head. The Prophet had shown him what they used to be like. They had been good people before they gained power they shouldn’t have had.
But I believe you underestimate yourself, my boy! Artemus said, smiling as he patted Justan’s shoulder. Now I am aware that, of all your bonded, I probably know you the least well. And I would understand if you found it hard to trust my judgement, considering that I spend much of my time as a bloodthirsty icicle with teeth. However, I hope you will give this some thought. There is one aspect of this power that you have not considered. Something that makes you completely different from Stardeon and Mellinda.
Yeah? What is that? Justan said sourly.
It’s source, Artemus replied. Stardeon and Mellinda begged the Prophet repeatedly to give them a way around the restrictions of the bond, but he denied them. Why? Because what they wanted was a way around the Creator’s will. They rebelled. Out of evil acts was their evil born.
