by
Marc H. Wyman & Chris Bogues
XIV. A Chink in the Armor <=== / ===>
XVI. The Birth of a Race (coming on Friday, May 10 2002)
The
old man smacked his walking stick against the wall. It bounced back, with
a reassuringly solid sound. “Nice workmanship,” he commented.
Alyssa
shrugged, then stuck her foot straight into the wall. “We can still get
through. Lonapal hasn’t run to Decirius yet.”
“I
doubt he will do that,” Darawk said. He had exchanged his usual clothes
for a pair of simple breeches, a linen shirt and a tweed vest. The attire
went well with the much younger appearance he’d taken, seeming to be
about the same age as Alyssa. Now it was surprisingly easy to see the
resemblance, the cut of the nose, the curve of the chin – all except for
the eyes formerly hidden by the wrinkles of age. “Lonapal wants
everybody to like him. Especially you, dear.”
“Want
to make a bet on that?” she countered, not too happy about Lonapal’s
affection.
Darawk
smiled, dug in his left vest pocket and extracted a silver medallion about
the size of his palm which he handed over to the old man. “He’ll wait
two full days before telling Decirius about this exit. Two days after
we’ve gone through, that is.”
His
voice blank, the old man asked, “Are you certain that you wish to leave
your abode?”
Alyssa’s
gaze was withering, but the god of knowledge smiled as he pointed at his
sister. “My friend, I would not hear the end of this if I were to stay
behind. My sister can be rather annoying when she chooses to be.”
“You
take this matter too lightly,” the old man cautioned. “The rashness of
youth speaks from your mouth, but you should let wisdom shade your
words.”
Alyssa
stepped by the side of her brother, clasping his arm gently and looked
over his shoulder at the old man. One might have thought that Darawk
served as her shield, yet the fire in her eyes would disabuse any observer
of that notion quickly. “You are free to stay, of course. Sixty days,
then you’ll be out anyway. What’s the big difference?”
“The
big difference,” the old man answered calmly, “is that I have spent
hundreds of millenia alone outside. The warmth of a fine abode is
something I have done without for too long. You may be throwing away your
place here and have to join me in my wanderings. Believe me, that is a
fate you do not want. And I certainly don’t want to be the cause.”
Before
the goddess could answer, Darawk raised his hand and gently closed her
mouth. “Old man, you are not the cause. Although we’ve only
known each other for a few days, you should have learned that I do not
make fast decisions. Nor am I swayed that easily by my sister – contrary
appearance notwithstanding, of course. Decirius does not act the way he
ought to, and I question his motives. Since he has made it clear that he
will not answer those questions, I seek to learn more by another
method.”
He
raised his chin a little, focused his gaze on the stranger. “This abode
was built on freedom, old man. Free deities who have joined together. We
are not like other abodes where one god is a tyrant who may never be
opposed. In all the time of our existence Decirius has never threatened a
member of our home. If there were questions, he answered them. Sometimes
he did not immediately offer all the facts at his disposal, but he said
enough to console us. That he does not seem to care about consolation
anymore is troubling. Can you see that?”
“I
can see,” the old man sighed, “that you are set on this course. Your
reasoning seems sound, and the yearning for knowlede is strong within you.
As strong as your sister’s yearning for respect, I would say.”
Darawk’s
grip on her mouth suddenly tightened, fully aware this was the only way to
keep her quiet. “I suggest to you, old man, to refrain from rashness
yourself. There is more to my sister than what you have seen and heard in
these short days. Now, are you –“
He
suddenly stopped, a concerned expression on his face, then he urged,
“Decide now, old man. Alyssa, we are leaving this moment.”
She
did not ask for any explanation but strode straight through the wall. The
old man though frowned at Darawk who had already put one foot into the
wall. “What has happened? I have not sensed anything.”
“I
am the god of knowledge, my friend,” Darawk smiled. “You may have
traveled through all there is, but I have found a lot that you haven’t
yet seen.” With these words, he stepped through the walls and left the
Eternal City.
Outside
stood Alyssa, her head angled to look at the perfectly blue sky. She had
changed her clothes to a leather dress that clung tightly to her figure,
but proved supple with every movement. “Whereto, brother of mine?”
“The
cave of the dwarves.” He pursed his lips. “Taurkémad may be there. We
have to be careful, in case she is in league with Decirius. But…” He
grinned back at the wall and held out his hand to help the old man outside
as well. “You seem able of rash decisions as well, my friend.”
“I
seem infected by youth,” the old man shook his head feebly. “I want to
see how you handle this affair. Strange that after all my existence I can
still be so moved by two young deities.”
Alyssa
frowned. “You’d better learn to move fast. The cave of the dwarves.
Now!” She linked her hand with Darawk’s, whose other arm still held on
to the old man – then the three gods vanished from the divine realm.
The
air had barely reclaimed the space vacated by the gods when Decirius
stepped through the wall. He folded his arms, took a deep breath, while
his black eyes focused on a point invisible in this realm. A thin smile
played about his lips. “I appreciate predictability. It is good to know
that I can count on these two in my calculations.”
From
beyond the wall, a voice commented, “The old man didn’t figure in
those calculations.”
“No,
he didn’t,” Decirius frowned. “He forced my hand a bit sooner than I
had planned. Keep an eye on him. Should he endanger our plans, you know
what to do.”
“Oh,
yes, I surely do,” the voice answered, dripping with anticipation.
Decirius
nodded to himself. Yes, his plan was proceeding well. The road to
greatness had been started, and with the help of unwitting Darawk and
Alyssa, he would walk the road to its end.
Yet
there was still work to do, he told himself. “I will seal the passage
now. Lonapal might talk to others about it. You have your own door, after
all.”
The
voice didn’t answer. Decirius raised an eyebrow. Predictable.
“Good,” he said, then went back into the Eternal City and closed the
doorway in the wall.
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