PARTY OF FOUR
One by one, Christopher called his subjects to this throne. One by one, they found ways to decline the honor he sought to bestow. Once upon a time, people had flocked to his side, hoping to join his retinue. Now that he was going to Hel, people shuffled and made excuses.
Lalania helped them. “There is no point in taking another priest. If divine magic will matter, you have as much of it as can be asked for. This is a traditional quest, or at least it must appear traditional at the outset, lest it fail immediately.” He had told her everything Marcius had said. He was done with secrets. “Thus, you must form a traditional adventuring party.”
He waited for her to continue. She looked a little sad at the loss of their usual banter. He could see that. He just couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it.
“You need a rogue and a warrior. One to open doors and the other to fight what is behind those doors. You already have the priest to heal the warrior and the wizard to deal with the things that can’t be killed with a sword.”
“Richard is working out?” It had been a week since he had last seen the man, who it must be said took to the study of magic with a monomaniacal focus appropriate to the world’s greatest theoretical physicist. Richard had read every book on magic in the entire kingdom in two days, without stopping to sleep, and was now at the stage of conducting experiments while his rank manifested. Christopher realized that Fae must be made miserable by the comparison, but again he couldn’t seem to care enough to act.
“You could say that,” Lalania said while looking at the wall. “Fae and I have kept him in hand, though, and his studies progress at a prodigal rate. He cracked the Wizard of Carrhill’s personal spell-book code because it was faster than reading it with a spell.”
“Where can I get a rogue?” He’d had a professional assassin once, but again, he’d had to kill her. “Does the Invisible Guild even exist anymore?” In the early days of his reign, he had hung quite a number of them.
“I assume so, but those of a rank to interest you must have already taken their chances in the Wild. However, all is not lost. There is another profession with similar skills, and they are already loyal.”
He stared at her, wishing she would stop trying to be clever. Or expect him to be.
“The College,” she said, exasperated. “I am talking about bards. You should promote me to a sufficient rank and take me with you.”
There was a time he would have objected. There was a time he would have pointed out that he was probably marching to his death, and he didn’t want to take anyone else with him.
He sat silently instead.
She took it as a positive sign. “Two more ranks would make me half again as hardy. I could finally withstand those ubiquitous barring spells. Ants and goblins would no longer require my pretense to be able to accompany you.”
“And the warrior?” he asked.
Lalania considered. “Cannan is the obvious choice. He has a sword fit for a king, and he owes you more than his life. He will need more ranks, though.”
“No.” Christopher discovered that his despair had limits. Cannan had just been reunited with his wife. Destroying that was a price too high to pay.
She shook her head but not in surprise. “He will be crushed. He has waited for you to call him, secure in the knowledge that no one else has the courage to follow you to the gates of Hel. He thought you were merely magnifying his loyalty by calling him last and giving everyone else a chance to decline. He gloried in watching those of higher rank mumble and back away.”
“No,” Christopher said again.
Lord Einar had declined, asserting that his tracking skills did not extend to the Underworld. Lord Istvar had suggested Christopher revive Duke Nordland and ask him, which just sounded like an expensive way to get insulted to his face. Torme and Gregor were priests or half-priests, and thus superfluous. That didn’t leave a lot of choices.
“One of those elves,” he said, thinking of the silver-clad warriors.
“What possible inducement could you offer?” Lalania asked skeptically.
“A job well done.” The god of death was breaking the rules. It seemed like something the elves should be offended by.
A page crept into the otherwise empty throne room to announce a petitioner. Christopher nodded absently. He had forgotten who else was due to appear and present a reason to avoid going on a suicide mission.
The person who walked into his hall was the last one he had expected. Alaine strolled up and tipped her head in nominal deference to his status as king. He was more powerful than she was now—Lalania and he had estimated her rank somewhere around ninth or tenth—but he still found her intimidating. She knew too many secrets and too many dragons to be taken lightly.
“I understand you are planning another adventure,” Alaine said. “So soon after the last one?”
Christopher growled at the elf. On this subject, he would berate gods.
“Such is often the case,” she said, not in the least concerned with his anger. “We reach for our most cherished dream, only to find it hollow once off the high shelf.”
“The situation is rather different,” Lalania said sharply. “Saint Christopher was satisfied with his dreams. Other parties intervened.”
“I was not speaking only on Christopher’s behalf,” she answered. “Yet it is true that the law, such as it is, appears to have been violated.”
“If you’re here to do something about it, say so,” Christopher said. “If you’re here to tell me you can’t do anything, I already know that.”
“I am not here to tell you I cannot do anything,” she said, sending an electric thrum of promise through Christopher’s spine. “I am here to tell you what I can do. This is my domain, and as such, I take it personally when someone else trespasses on it. Also, we elves have no cause to love Hordur, and no desire to see you fail where so many others have. Thus, I must tell you: your wizard is not ready. He will lose.”
“And?” Lalania said in challenge. Christopher held his breath, hoping for the best.
“And I have come to make him ready. Understand we do this for our own purposes; but at this juncture they coincide with your own.”
“Will you give us a warrior too?” Christopher asked. “Apparently we need a warrior.”
Alaine bowed her head in genuine humility this time. “I have been farther across the face of Prime than many, and to more planes than most. Yet I would add to my travels. If you will have me, I will accompany you.”
Christopher found himself begging for scraps to raise the tael for Lalania’s promotion. Richard had consumed all of the demon’s tael. He had lost all patience, however, and his requests for charity came out as demands. Only the fact that everyone expected him to never return from this adventure kept them from rebelling.
Krellyan was widely viewed as the soon-to-be occupant of the throne. Christopher found he did not care, either for or against. Not that it mattered because no one asked his opinion. In general, people avoided him as much as possible.
Even Cannan was gone, off to Niona’s homeland. He had not left without making a statement, however. Alaine returned to court wearing his sword on top of her own silvered mail.
“It is a good sword,” the elf acknowledged. The thing seemed too large for her, but that did not fool Christopher.
She brought Richard with her. The man looked different, tanned and worn into his new skin, at ease in his elven leathers. He also spoke the local language fluently.
“I understand the Lady Alaine will accompany us? And the bard as well? So it’s a double date.” He was too polished to leer, but the look he gave Lalania could not be mistaken.
She muttered under her breath, an aside for Christopher. “The man is insatiable. I wonder how Alaine fared.”
“It was only a week,” Christopher whispered back. The memory of Kalani’s extremely casual approach to the topic made him squirm. He did not need to know more details.
Alaine apparently could still hear them. “A week for you and I. Not for Master Richard.”
“Say what?” Christopher blurted.
“Time dilation.” Richard stared at him with alarming directness. “The gate spell necessarily reaches through time as well as space. You reached twenty-five thousand years into the past to bring me here. All you have to do is stumble a bit on the return trip and Bob’s your uncle. You’re back just after you left, no matter how long you were gone.”
Christopher narrowed his eyes, wondering if the man was making fun of him. “I don’t understand.”
Alaine smiled. “Now you have some measure of how the rest of us feel. Yet in this case, I can interpret. What he is trying to say is that Argeous took him to a plane where time passes differently. He has been gone for three years from his point of view.”
“Oh. Sorry?” Christopher wasn’t sure what he was supposed to make of this news.
“You needn’t be,” Richard said. “It gave me a chance to make a proper study of magic. Not that I don’t still have questions. I imagine you must as well.”
“He learns quickly,” Alaine said, and her words carried a hint of warning. “The Directorate was impressed. In sheer point of fact, he surpassed their standards and won their respect.”
“What she is trying to say,” Richard said, “Is that I am now of equal rank to you. They promoted me because they thought I deserved it.”
Christopher raised his eyebrows in surprise. That was incredible generosity, especially for a creature that would soon fade from the long war the elves waged.
“Also because any less would result in failure,” Alaine explained. “The Directorate was willing to make this investment because they think you have a chance to hurt our common foe significantly.”
“They?” Lalania asked pointedly.
Alaine smiled at the barb. “It is true that I concur with the Directorate in this regard.”
Richard rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. “The Directorate also provided me access to their library. Which I must say is quite considerable for a people who do not practice wizardry. These elves are like squirrels, caching all sorts of nuts against future need. Not quite what literature primed me to expect.”
Christopher had more immediate concerns. “Did they give you any nice toys?” He still hadn’t recovered the magical gear that had been looted from Trewayn’s vault.
Richard shook his head. “I manufactured the apparatus necessary to my rank, but I turned down everything else. We can do better.”
“I must also say that you have been offered better than myself,” Alaine said. “We have a few champions of higher rank; any of them would be willing to take my place at your side.”
“I turned them down, too,” Richard said. “This mission depends on discretion as much as force, and I am concerned that any entity more significant than Lady Alaine would set off warning bells. As the local Field Officer, her presence is explicable; you, of course, are expected, the bard isn’t high enough rank to matter, and I am too new to have a reputation.”
“You seem to have taken it all well in hand,” Christopher said.
Richard looked at him with a piercing gaze. “You called for my help and staked my life. I intend to succeed.”
Chastised, Christopher bit his lip.
“To wit,” Richard continued, “I need your assistance. If one of us opens a gate to Earth the other can cross over for almost three hours. I would like to acquire a few of our own toys.”
“We already have the best from Christopher’s forges,” Lalania said, her hand going to the revolver she wore.
“No offense,” Richard said to her with a fetching smile, “but I had more in mind.”
Christopher could not take offense. It was objectively true that Earth had better firearms. It was also likely true that Richard would have advanced technology further in five years than he had. And the physicist probably wouldn’t have a wife to be rescued, requiring him to run off and abandon his kingdom.
“Um,” Christopher said, realizing he had not even considered the issue until now, “do you need to call home and tell someone where you are?”
Richard laughed, genuinely enough, but his eyes were still on Lalania. “What could I possibly say? I got up and walked away from my wheelchair to play with the fairies? People disappear all the time on Earth, for all sorts of reasons, but world-famous cripples don’t just vanish without leaving so much as a fingernail. You should have prepared a corpse and set my bedroom on fire. If no one had looked too closely, it might have worked. Now the British tabloids will be exploding. Yes, I have family who must now be agonizing over my fate, but the daily medicine that kept me alive is not easily obtained. By now logic and reason will have confirmed my death in absentia. To disturb them with an incoherent phone call would seem the better part of cruelty.”
He shrugged his shoulders disarmingly. “Scotland Yard is no doubt in a tizzy as well, but I doubt your mercies extend to them, nor could they be assuaged with a mere phone call either. Unless you were placing a ransom demand. That, at least, would make sense.”
“You see what I mean,” Alaine said ruefully.
Christopher did see. He should have made that phone call on Maggie’s behalf, but he hadn’t, for the same reason. What could he possibly say? To hear his voice when he was supposed to have been long dead assuring that his now missing wife was perfectly fine would only make her family crazy.
Especially since he could not force such a lie through his lips. Maggie was lost, and he did not know where or how. He stood up, driven by the same whip that had lashed him since that moment.
“Where do you want the gate?” His hand was already trying to trace out the spell.
“On this side, in your stable. Sympathetic foci can only increase the chance of success. As for that side, I have an address.”
“You intend to steal horses from Earth?” Lalania asked. Apparently she understood him when he spoke of arcana.
Christopher had not understood it, but he had not asked because he didn’t care. He started walking down the long hall, heading for the courtyard.
“Of sorts,” Richard said to Lalania as they followed him out. “But why don’t you come along and see? I’m sure you could make yourself useful.”
Lalania blushed. “I know nothing of the situation you are entering. I would only be a liability.”
Richard shook his head, although his eyes did not move. He stared at the bard like a man in a desert staring at a waterfall. “Nothing I can plan is beyond your improvisational skill.”
Christopher exchanged a glance with Alaine. The elf looked back coolly, unconcerned with the little drama. He decided not to worry about it. Lalania had been dealing with this for her whole life; she had literally been trained for it.
“Give me the address,” he said, interrupting some inconsequential flattery.
Richard handed him a slip of paper. While Christopher read it, his eyes having to refocus on the unfamiliar English lettering, Richard cast his own spell, summoning the white mist that Lalania’s lyre produced. In its wake, his and Lalania’s clothes were transformed into military uniforms.
“I liked that blouse,” Lalania complained.
“Trust me, this suits you better, Colonel.” Richard saluted her crisply, still managing to imbue every word and act with salacious intent. “I am your driver, ma’am. We are to collect a Wolf for Home Duty.”
“Snap to it, soldier,” she barked, throwing herself into the role.
Richard grinned, his eyes making a double-entendre out of her remarks, but what he said was, “That was perfect, but unfortunately it needs to be in English.”
Christopher turned away from the gaping hole that opened into a paved alleyway in another world and cast the translation spell on Lalania.
“What am I supposed to say to anyone who comes wandering through here?” he asked.
“That’s your problem,” Richard said. “Go ahead and tell them the truth for all I care. You can hardly make a worse mess of it than you already have. Just keep it open until we get back. I don’t fancy having to answer MI6’s questions without magic on my side.”
He raised his eyebrows at Christopher’s obvious question, answering it before it could be asked. “You didn’t know? Magic works as long as you hold the gate open. I will still be a legendary wizard over there for the next three hours. Why didn’t you research this? I mean, I know you’re an engineer, but this is at least technical.”
“I had other things on my mind,” Christopher answered testily.
Richard gave Lalania an appreciative glance. “I understand. No, wait, I don’t.” Before Christopher had to respond, Richard took Lalania’s hand and led her down the alleyway.
Alaine stood at his side. “My experience of Earth natives is woefully small, yet I find myself drawing broad conclusions. Please tell me I am wrong.”
“They’re not all like us,” Christopher said. “Most of them are normal.”
She gazed through the gap. Christopher realized she might have wanted to go along. For that matter, there were things he would have liked to have asked for. A bar of chocolate, for instance. He began hatching a plan to send Alaine across to look for a corner shop, but it fell apart when he came to the part where she paid for it.
“Hang on,” Christopher said. “How is he going to buy an army jeep?”
“It seems obvious that he intends to steal whatever he requires. He cleverly kept you distracted, precisely so you would not ask that very question. Although his affiliation is technically White, he is not quite as circumscribed as you are.”
Christopher looked at her, remembering her promise to murder him and everyone he knew if he went astray. “And you?”
“No,” she confessed. “We do not bind ourselves to gods. If I should fall and abuse my office, it is upon myself and my fellows to correct it. We will not lose our powers merely because we lose our way.”
“That isn’t necessarily a good thing,” Christopher said, thinking of the value of a fail-safe. It was nice to know that if he went for Team Evil, he would at least be denied the spells he wielded in Marcius’s name.
“It depends on whether or not you trust the gods.”
He started to object, but his long-ago argument with Lalania came back to him. Instead, he asked, “Do you have reasons I should doubt Marcius?”
“Not at all,” she said. “Yet that does not mean such reasons do not exist. It just means I do not know them.”
He was glad that Richard was absent for this conversation. Gods were another thing he had not researched. In sheer point of fact, he had told Marcius to his face that he did not believe the god was being upfront and honest and yet continued to trust him completely.
“Wheels within wheels,” he muttered.
“We have ridden the Great Wheel for longer than you can imagine,” Alaine said. “In all that time, we have seen things that would beggar your dreams and terrify your nightmares. Yet I can tell you this: never before has the Directorate offered such rank to a mortal. He is truly a remarkable specimen.”
With a flash, Christopher realized he had been rendered entirely obsolete. Richard had made it clear he could open gates too. And because he was from Earth, he could take over the role of guardian of the gate. Or target of the hjerne-spica. Whichever it was, this world no longer needed Christopher. He could go home now.
Except that he couldn’t. There was no home left to go to.
He stood in his stable, stewing in anger.
Richard timed it close. Alaine had started to frown, meaning that her internal clock was running out. Christopher had found a hay bale to sit on, tired of standing after the first two hours. Servants had brought them wine and cheese, and a squad of soldiers waited just outside the stable doors with rifles and a cannon.
At least no one wandered by the rip in the world. Christopher wondered at the luck of that until he realized Richard must have done something to hide it.
Shortly after night began falling on the alleyway, he saw headlights. An open-topped jeep zipped around the corner and confidently drove through the gate, coming to a stop between Christopher and Alaine.
Richard saluted from the driver’s seat. “Reporting for duty, General.”
Lalania was sitting in the passenger seat, flushed with excitement. Christopher smiled to see her reaction to automobiles.
“Was it an eventful trip?” Alaine asked the bard, more archly than Christopher thought necessary.
“You’re not one to talk,” Lalania replied, before turning and pointing at the heavy machine gun mounted in the back. “Richard says this is for you.”
“A bit of an upgrade over your bow,” the man said, winking at her. He seemed far more relaxed than he had been several hours ago. Apparently action was good for the soul. Christopher itched to join them. Every moment of delay felt like nails being driven into his spine.
“When can we go?” Christopher asked.
“A few more details,” Richard answered. “I need to show Alaine how to use the gun, which I imagine won’t take long. And I need to teach Ell to drive, although she’s already pretty handy with a stick shift. You and I will have our hands full with spells, and in any case, I bet your license has elapsed.”
He had a pet nickname for her now. Lalania didn’t flinch at the familiarity, so Christopher let it pass. There would be a time when he would have to account for all the wizards he expected her to keep on side. Not now.