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“I CANNOT EVEN PRETEND to be surprised, much less shocked,” Trey said when we caught up with him the next day. “Disgusted, yes, but not surprised. My cousin has long had a fascination with that species of chimera.”
We sat on a log beside a wide, unpaved road that led back to the main highway. The log was without a shred of bark, having undoubtedly been used for this very purpose for many years. That it was within a few yards of a spring-fed pool nestled at the foot of the steep hill behind us was surely not a coincidence. The morning was quiet except for a few birds in the trees. There were no other travelers on the road.
Trey saw at once that there was a tale to tell when he rode from the woods to meet us, some miles further up the road. At his suggestion, we kept things to ourselves until we were seated and comfortable. Trees were scattered along the road and up the hillsides around us, but it was otherwise open country and the road was straight for a long way in either direction. There was very little chance we would be overheard by an unseen watcher, or taken by surprise.
I was confident that Trey could conceal us from any covert surveillance by his cousin.
“Before we begin, there is a thing I need made clear.” Sid was frowning slightly in puzzlement. “What is a ‘chimera’? You have both used that word for dreyfts, gryphons, and now these — manticore.”
“It’s a general term for creatures that didn’t come into existence naturally,” Trey replied. “They were made by the Pancreators, and later by the Alvehn, from material taken from many sorts of creatures from a number of different worlds. When they prove viable, they are used in various ways, though what use the Pancreators might have had for gryphons, dragons, and manticores is no longer remembered. Over the ages, many chimeras have been taken, or migrated, to alternate worlds.”
“These creatures were made, and not bred?” She seemed somewhat offended by the idea.
Now it was Trey’s turn to frown, knowing that Sid’s frame of reference would not accommodate a discussion of molecular biology. “That’s a much harder question, since knowledge of how these things are done does not exist among the people of this world. The Alvehn, and before us the Pancreators, can build living things the way a craftsman can build a bicycle or an electric cart. We have made chimeras of various sorts, and we altered the dreyfts to make them a better fit to this world. Such work is part of the legacy of the lost Pancreators.”
Sid shook her head, probably more confused by that point than she’d been to start with. “Pancreators? Are these the gods of your people?”
Trey hesitated, clearly at a loss for what to say. The Alvehn are very reluctant to discuss the Pancreators, since that ancient race created them in the first place, then turned from them for reasons that have never been made clear to me. I get the impression from that reluctance that it wasn’t an amicable divorce.
“Hmm, no, they weren’t gods, though from the way the Alvehn describe them, they might as well have been,” I said, thinking intervention at that point would be merciful to all involved. I received a little nod of approval from my friend. “They created most of the chimeras and, among other things, set the Great Attractors in motion.”
Sid was frowning and shaking her head a little. “You use such ordinary words, and yet their meaning escapes me.”
“How much do you know about the multiverse?” I asked in response.
“I know there are worlds beyond my own,” she said. “Yours for example. And that of the Alvehn. And that the Alvehn have found the road between them.”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” she said with a quiet laugh.
“I’m no expert,” I cautioned. “But this much I understand. There exists a multiverse made up of an infinite number of parallel worlds, in an infinite diversity. Some of these worlds are very much alike, such as my world and this one. Just as many are so different that life as we know it can’t exist. The people the Alvehn call the Pancreators traveled the multiverse at will, building and creating. The chimeras are the least of what they did. They also set in motion a process that caused compatible universes to be drawn to each other. That’s what the Great Attractors do, whatever they really are. Eventually worlds like yours and mine touch, and the fabric of Reality Rips. The Rips are what the Alvehn use to go from one realm to the other, once they find and stabilize them. And it’s important to control Rips. You see, the chimeras are attracted to them, and use them to spread from world to world. Not all chimeras are intelligent beings like gryphons and dragons. We had some unpleasant experiences due to migrant chimeras, when my world developed Rips.”
Of course, dangerous chimeras weren’t the only thing that came through Rips and troubled us, but I could see that we were over-explaining things, and let it go at that. She was rubbing her temples, eyes squeezed shut. “You are so right. It’s far more complicated than I imagined.”
“Uh, well, that’s not really the complicated part. That’s just the little bit I understand.”
She stared at me for a moment, then shook her head. “It’s more than enough for now,” she admitted with a rueful laugh. “I will think of ‘chimera’ as simply a form of life, the way one might say ‘bird’ or ‘tree.’”
“That’s correct enough,” said Trey.
“And they are mortal beings,” Sid continued. “They can be killed if necessary.”
Thoughts of the code she followed danced in my head. “Never offer a manticore mercy,” I said. “If you do, you’re as good as dead.”
“David is quite right,” Trey said. “Manticores can be controlled if you have the right tools and abilities, as my cousin has demonstrated. But although they are thinking beings like the gryphons, they see almost all other forms of life as either enemies or prey. They see humans and gryphons as both. If you face a manticore and cannot flee, kill it.”
Sid looked grim, but nodded.
“We got lucky last night.” The memory of that reeking monster looming in the fog, barbed tail curled down and ready to strike, sent a chill up my spine. “Damned lucky. And that was with the help of the gryphons.” I gave him a nutshell account of the fight we’d heard in the fog over our heads.
“Lucky indeed.” Trey looked grave, but unshaken. “I would be more concerned, but the thought that we may yet be able to count the gryphons among our allies is encouraging. You say you had a rather long talk with Grevin. What did he have to say?”
Between us, Sid and I relayed Grevin’s observations and suspicions. At the end, Trey nodded and said, “You believe manticores were involved with the attack?”
“It fits what we were told,” I said. “And what happened afterward.”
“Yes, it certainly does.” Trey paused and his expression changed.
“What?” I knew that look.
Trey gave me a look of chagrin. “Edren knows you’re here. He will assume I am here, as well. And because he tracked you from the city, where you were noticed either entering or leaving the library at the University, Edren just as surely knows you spoke to Grevin.”
“I’ve been worrying about that, too,” I muttered. “There’s nothing for it. We can only hope they aren’t too hard on him.”
“Speaking of the library,” Sid said, and she patted the hilt of her sword.
“Ah, yes,” Trey said. “The Rogue Blade! May I have a closer look at it? I will not handle it, of course. I dare not.”
Sid stood up and drew the sword, holding it before her with her right hand on the hilt, and the flat of the blade supported by her left. The bright early summer sun cast sparkles that were almost too bright for comfort. Trey leaned forward, peering at it, then fished something from his bag and stood. The finger-sized instrument he held over the blade was not one I recognized.
“You should have seen it, Trey,” I said as he examined the blade. “It was able to move and break out of that case.”
“Such weapons are capable of drawing gravitons from other universes. But you know that.” He peered at the sword, frowning. Whatever data he’d gathered seem to puzzle him. “It simply aligned itself to the gravity of another dimension, where ‘down’ translated into moving toward Sidraytha, and literally fell against the glass. As for the case, you do recall that these swords can sing?”
“If you call that singing.” To yet another puzzled look from Sid, I added, “They can vibrate, something like the string of a lute. Or the tines of a tuning fork.” I waited a beat to see if she asked what a tuning fork was.
Instead Sid nodded. “That makes sense. I’ve seen such a fork struck and then shatter a glass near it.”
“The readings I am capable of taking are inconclusive.” Trey bent to stow his scanner. “This is an old sword, even as such things are counted among the Alvehn. It may well have been one of the first. Before we were adept at matching blade to bearer, these swords were left to match themselves to the swordsman. The recipient would walk into an armory where unmatched blades were kept.”
“And things just happened?” I shook my head. “Sort of sloppy work.”
“It was, in fact,” and he nodded. “Now and then a sword was forged that would not accept a bearer. Such unmatched swords were kept safe on the chance that an acceptable warrior came within reach. This is surely one such blade. Beyond that, I can say very little. We have never been able to determine who brought it here, or how it came to be dangerous to Alvehn. To say nothing of binding it to this world by means beyond our understanding.” He nodded to Sid and she stowed the blade. “There is something quite special about you, my friend. Before you sits the only other human being to ever wield such a weapon.”
Looking a little embarrassed, Sid joined us as we sat down again. “I do not feel special,” she said. “I feel confused. It’s a fine blade, and I would not willingly part with it, but last night — I have fought many men, and slain no few. I mean no boast, but those men we faced last night could not have overcome me. It was as if my abilities had been... had been...”
“Enhanced?” I volunteered.
Sid peered at me, wonder and worry in her eyes. “Yes.”
“And so it was,” said Trey. “This sword is now bonded to you. It will cooperate with you, so that your existing skills no long are applied to an inert length of finely honed steel. This blade will reshape itself in tiny ways to alter balance and weight according to how it perceives your needs. It works with you. It will even come to your hand at need.”
“That takes some getting used to,” I said.
“You speak of this sword as if it lived.”
“Not in the sense that we three here are alive,” Trey said. “More of a machine in a way, built to perform a certain task. But it also has a certain level of awareness, and it is most aware of you. As you use it, the sword will become more adept at making the skills you now possess more efficient.” He looked her in the eye. “You seem uncomfortable with all of this.”
“I am,” she replied. Her left hand stroked the hilt of her rogue sword; she didn’t seem aware of the action. “It is — bewildering, these things you tell me. This blade and the connection I feel with it — that isn’t natural. And yet, when I used it last night it felt — right. As if this sword is what I’ve been looking for ever since I first lifted a blade.”
“That’s good,” Trey said. “That’s very good. That means the normal bonding process is well underway. It is a rogue no more, and you have gained a great advantage over future adversaries.”
“This hasn’t hurt our cause, either,” I pointed out.
“True enough,” Trey replied.
“Speaking of such things, what do we mean to do next?” Sid was clearly anxious to move on to another subject.
“We need to make our way to the Abbey,” Trey said. “That much is certain. But I believe we should follow the good librarian’s advice to the Prince and not go there directly.”
“The three of us traveling anywhere together will be a bit conspicuous,” I said.
“I have given that some thought,” Trey said with a nod. “I believe we should attach ourselves to a rail caravan.”
“As freelance guards?” I guessed.
“The old caravan guild now controls the newer solar rail system,” Trey replied. “They are recruiting, which is no surprise in these troubled times. We should be able to find a place on the next caravan headed west.”
“Why would they trust us?” Sid asked. It was a fair question.
“I am Alvehn,” he replied. “We have a reputation for being trustworthy.”
“And it’s said luck follows your kind,” Sid added with a nod.
“That hasn’t been my experience,” I muttered.
Trey just laughed. “That’s because you ride with the wrong Alvehn.”
“How do we conceal ourselves, if we take such roles?” Sid asked.
“We don’t,” Trey replied with a grin, violet eyes flashing. “The Regent knows we’re here, and is sure to guess what we’re after. We gain nothing from concealment at this point. If I know Edren, he’ll set a watch on us, and hope we succeed. We might well find the Prince for him. The challenge will then be to deny him the prize.”
I gave Sid a knowing look, having said pretty much the same things the night before. A little of that smirk appeared and vanished in an instant. “So we go back to Westla, then,” I said.
“Yes,” said Trey. “And before we go further, I must alert my people to these new discoveries.”
“They can’t be updated from here?” I knew damned well he could send a message using his implanted system.
Trey frowned and shook his head. “Something is interfering.”
“You mean ‘someone,’” I replied. And Trey merely nodded.
Sid was suddenly on her feet, slinging her sword over her shoulder and buckling the baldric, while staring hard and eastward down the road. In the direction of Morvain. “Riders. Eight of them, and riding hard!”
“Move!” I snapped. Always best to assume the worst.
Fortunately we hadn’t unpacked the horses. In a few heartbeats we were mounted and ready to either flee or fight. In the distance I could see riders approaching and, a moment later, realized there was one in the lead, being pursued. All the animals involved were being ridden very hard, even for Adrathean steeds.
“One rides ahead of the others,” Trey said, shading his eyes. “Those in pursuit bear no markings, and are not armored.”
“Bandits?” I wondered. “Who the hell are they chasing?” All I could see of the fellow were dark robes flapping. They looked like scholar’s robes.
“Grevin!” Sid gasped.
“Shit!” I raised my right hand above my shoulder and the sword was in it. Sid had hers held ready. I glanced at Trey, who was similarly armed. Three Alvehn swords, sparkling in the sun. I shouted, and we charged.
Grevin looked up at the sound of horses bearing down on him. For a moment his was a look of dismay — and then he recognized two of us. The men after him drew their blades and never missed a beat. We shot past Grevin, straight into his pursuers. There was a brief ringing of steel on steel, and three men were tumbling from their saddles as we turned our steeds around and plunged back the way we’d come. After that it was shouting and ringing blades, punctuated by the cries of men who knew in sudden terror that life was over. I caught glimpses of my comrades; Trey impassive as he cut a man down, and Sid swinging a sword that moved just a heartbeat too quickly for her adversary. The man I faced after that first pass was good, very good, but soon his saddle was empty. That left one.
The lead rider had continued forward and was fighting with Grevin, who was holding his own, though hampered by his garments. I spurred my horse to rush to his aid, but as I did, an Alvehn knife suddenly appeared in the back of Grevin’s opponent. The man dropped his guard and an instant later the librarian ran him through.
Riderless horses milled about for a time, then began to straggle back up the road toward the city. Apparently, they had some sense for where home might be.
