The Aperture

Chapter 14

A Change of Heart

The room was lit with only a dim blue-green light from outside the window when Connie awoke from her deep slumber. She sat up and looked around the room for a moment, forgetting where she was for the moment. She came to her senses and realized she was in her room, or rather, Alyndia’s room.

At first, she thought she was alone, but then she spotted Snow curled up in the broad, saucer-shaped chair by the bed, reading by the light of a lamp that burned with a bright, blue flame. The shelves in the room were nearly empty, and all of Alyndia’s books now stood in stacks around Snow’s makeshift reading chair. Some books were even stacked on the chair itself. Evidently, she had been doing a lot of reading.

“What time is it?” Connie asked her.

“Late or early, depending on your point of view,” the sorceress replied absently, turning the page of one of the books.

Connie scanned the stacks of books and scrolls on the floor. For Snow’s seemingly haphazard arrangement of the books, her humble apartment was reminiscent of Calicus’ residence. In other words, the place was a mess.

“Just make yourself at home, Snow,” Connie said sarcastically.

“I have,” she replied, still not looking up from the pages of the book. “You’ve been asleep for several hours. I thought that since you were, I’d read some of your books.”

“They’re not my books.”

“They are now. And you should cherish them. Some of these are very rare. Some are unique. I’m wondering where Alyndia got them from.”

Connie had awoke feeling parched. She walked over to the urn and poured herself something to drink. She finished one cup of water, and then she filled the cup again and leaned against the table there while watching Snow read.

“What are you reading?”

“Alyndia’s spell books.”

“All of these are spell books?” Connie asked, referring to the stacks of books from the shelves.

“Not all of them. Some of them are literature. There’s a lot of romantic poetry here, too. Some of it is very nice. It seems Alyndia was something of a hopeless romantic. I never knew that about her.” She turned the page of the book at hand, read a bit more, then closed the book. “By the way, I know what she was doing that caused this.”

“You do?”

“Yes. She was going to occupy the body of one whose spirit had departed. Somehow, she was directed to your body instead, and your spirit was dislodged.”

“How do you know?”

Snow wrinkled her brow. “She cast a great number of spells in combination in order to do this. I’ve been able to piece together some of what she’s done through the books here.” Snow shook her head. “She was practicing some very dangerous, unstable spells here, spells that I myself, experienced in the art of celestial magic, would think twice about casting. She was doing something insane. Most unusually, she was doing some interdimensional work.”

“Interdimensional work? What do you mean by that?”

“By that, I mean she was practicing under the theory that there are other terrestrial worlds outside our own—in parallel universes—and these worlds are accessible through the Wild. Why Alyndia was doing this is anyone’s guess.”

“Maybe she fell in love with someone who lives in one of these worlds she found.”

“Intriguing idea, Connie. With whom, do you suppose?”

Connie took another sip of the water. “Suppose I told you that it is a man who lives in my world, and she tried to be with him by occupying the vacant body of his beloved wife.”

Snow nodded slowly, as though she were pondering this idea for the first time. However, something subtle in the sorceress’s manner led Connie to believe that she knew more than she was leading on.

“What you say makes sense,” Snow said. “But why do you think Alyndia chose to occupy the body of another woman when she could manifest herself there in the flesh? I see she had the spell for it here.”

“Because maybe the chemistry of the world the man lived in was incompatible with hers, and her occupying the body of someone native to the world was the only way they could have physical contact with each other.”

Snow sat up on the chair. “This is all very interesting, Connie. What more can you tell me about this?”

Connie moved away from the table and looked herself in the mirror. Though the lighting in the room was poor, she still looked like Alyndia. She could hardly bear it. She turned to face Snow. “I will tell you, Snow, but you will not believe it. I can hardly accept it myself.”

She told the sorceress what Professor Layton said at his interrogation and about her ill-fated trip to the hospital, where she put on the iridium bracelet. Snow listed intently, nodding slowly every once in a while. When Connie had finished, the two women stared at each other. Connie finished most of the water in the cup.

“That’s an incredible tale, Connie,” Snow said.

“It’s the truth.”

“I believe it is, because what you just told me goes along with spells Alyndia marked in these books.”

“Is there a way to reverse what’s been done so that I can get back into my world?”

“Not likely. Perhaps Calicus could do it. Maybe I could with a great deal of research. But I am not well-versed in such spells,” she said, gesturing to the books on the shelves. “But your body must be alive, wherever it is, and it must be unoccupied by another spirit. Otherwise, your chances are nil.”

She sighed. “Just my luck.” She tipped the cup and let the remainder of the clear liquid it contained splash onto her hand and onto the ornate rug in front of the bed. “In my world, we have something called acids and alkali. You must know of them too because I found a word for them in your language.” She gazed at the liquid on her hand. “If Professor Layton was telling the truth, the liquid I just drank is hydrochloric acid, and you and I are breathing chlorine. But the acid tastes like water, and the chlorine smells like—air. Neither do they burn or corrode anything.” She gazed down at the wet spot on the rug. “There must be some sort of chemical balance…” she said, trailing off.

Snow smiled. “Chlorine is everywhere. It kisses the ground in the morning fog before sunrise. Its lovely green is the sweetness of the heavens we inhale, the song of poets. It is often referred to in poetic literature as the breath of life.”

Connie let out a small laugh. “Chlorine? The breath of life? In the world I come from, we once used chlorine gas in war to kill the enemy. It is a cruel, nasty gas that burns your skin and blinds you. Can you imagine blisters in your lungs? The effects of chlorine on a human being are so devastating that the governments of my world banned it after our first Great War.”

“It’s difficult to imagine chlorine doing that,” Snow said.

“I don’t expect you to believe me, but I know the truth. That’s all that matters.”

Snow tossed the books off the couch. They fell, knocking over one of the stacks, creating greater disarray in the room. “What Alyndia did is such a tragedy.”

“I’m not happy about what she did to me, either,” Connie said.

“I’m not talking about you—I’m talking about the bracelet.”

Connie was stunned to hear this. “What? The bracelet? Who gives a damn about the bracelet? What about me?”

“You can go to the devil for all I care. We need that bracelet.”

Connie again felt her ire towards Snow rising in her breast.

“The bracelet’s in my world. I confiscated it from Professor Layton.”

“We need it for our quest.”

“I know. You need it for protection at the Atranox.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Calicus told me. He explained everything to Rahl and me.”

“You are not worthy of such knowledge,” she scoffed, “and neither was the original Alyndia, for that matter.”

“You cannot say anything about my worthiness, Snow. You know nothing about me.”

“And you know nothing about what compels me to say such a thing.”

“Perhaps not, but I already see that you are a vain woman whose self-importance is matched only by her delusions of glory. Are you going to save the world from Chaos, Snow? Would you like us peons to build a temple for you so that we might worship your holy name? Too bad the bracelet is gone to the land of blue skies, oxygen, and water. Now where is your glory? I guess it’s back to the temple for you so that you may cast fertility spells on the barren.”

Snow’s eyes widened with anger, but she said nothing. Connie reckoned that she was too angry to speak. This pleased her. The woman was asking for it again.

“You know, I could turn your blood to sand this moment, but you aren’t worth the spell,” she said, glaring at Connie from the floor.

“Very well, Snow. If you aren’t going to turn my blood to sand, just leave my books alone and get out of my apartment—or Alyndia’s apartment—or whomever it belongs to.”

“I will leave when I want to.”

“How dare you say that! This is my home. Get the hell out of here!”

With those words, Connie threw the cup at Snow. The cup missed her and struck the wall behind her and shattered loudly into a million shards. Instantly, Snow rose to her feet. Connie walked over to the door and pulled it open.

“Get out,” she ordered Snow from the doorway. “Now!”

Snow seemed genuinely stunned by Connie’s impetuousness. Nevertheless, she walked toward the door, intentionally bumping into (and knocking over) a stack of books as she went. She walked over to Connie and the doorway and stopped just as she was about to pass through. Snow grinned broadly into Connie’s scowl. Then casually, she reached into her robe, pulled out a neatly folded piece of parchment, and held it out to Connie. “I found this over there on the table,” she said. “Alyndia wrote it. You might want to read it.”

Connie snatched the parchment from Snow’s hands. “Out!” she said.

Snow turned and exited the apartment. She stepped slowly down the stairs to the street below.

“And have a nice quest!” Connie shouted down the staircase after Snow. Then she slammed the door. Finally, alone in the apartment and fuming angry, she stepped over to the chair where Snow sat. In a fit of rage, she heaved her a kick at one of the stacks of books and sent a bunch of them flying across the room. Breathing heavily, she stormed over to the bed and sat down. She closed her eyes and counted to ten to control her anger. She could not believe what had happened to her. This whole thing seemed like a nightmare she could not wake up from.

She sat in the bed for a long time, finally opening her eyes after she’d calmed herself down to a degree. At that point, she realized she still held the parchment Snow had given her. Slowly, she unfolded it. On the page, she saw a woman’s neat, cursive handwriting. The letters looked foreign to her at first glance, but her mind decoded their phonetic meanings perfectly. She moved over to the chair by the lamp, where there was more light.

Dearest Jalban, the missive began.

If you are reading my words here, I have successfully traveled to another place where true love awaits me. Since my mother passed, I was an orphan in this world, a child of the stars drowning in the depths of the sea. On this day I draw to a close my time of melancholy and malaise.

I do not expect you to understand my way when you find me breathless in this state, but you may be assured my soul resides now in a place where resides the spirit I have loved for so long, a kindly soul who loves me in return.

My earnest wish now is that when you and I meet again on the far banks of the Eternal River past the hour of our deaths, whenever that may be, we will meet in peace, and you will not despise me for this thing I have done. I beseech you in this, my dear uncle.

You have my deepest regrets if I cause you pain. This is what I must do. Perhaps you will find solace in the knowledge that I have finally recaptured the love I had let slip away.

Your Alyndia

Connie re-folded the parchment and placed it next to the lamp. The letter was tantamount to a suicide note. Alyndia was going to check out, never to return. Now it occurred to Connie that her spirit had entered Alyndia’s body at the time of her death, and now she lived again. If things had gone according to plan, Alyndia would have occupied Elise Layton’s body, and Jalban would have found his niece lying lifeless on her bed when he came up to take her to the Castle Maray.

Connie rubbed her eyes with her hands. She struggled to recall the finer details of what the professor had said to her when she interrogated him. Perhaps in his words she could find a clue that would lead to a way out of this predicament. She bit her lip as she thought that Alyndia might now be occupying her body, spending her paycheck, living it up with the professor, or maybe even with MacGregor. There was no justice in the universe.

She sat for a long while meditating on the shuttered window. Green light from the twin moons shone through the cracks in the shutters. She was temped to open the shutters to let in the light, but the sight of the twin moons disturbed her. The night before, they appeared as vacant, twin orbs peering down upon the world. Cat eyes.

Connie sighed. She was on her own in this world, and with no one to help her, she had to find out a way with her own resourcefulness or accept her fate and remain as she was. She would need to pick up the pieces of her new life and start from scratch. She scanned the books scattered around the room. There were many mysteries in the world she now lived in. But one thing she had come to find—magic was not an illusion here. It really worked. It worked so well; in fact, it had arrested the development of technology to the point where the world seemed stuck in the European Middle Ages. The magic could be frightening in its effect. She recalled seeing Theo breaking the arms of the bandits with the fairy flick of his wrist. There was no faking that. And then there was the Chaos. If it were really true, and Chaos really existed as Rahl and Calicus said, then there was great cause for fear.

Connie picked up a few of the books and sat them on her lap. The cover of the book on top was unmarked. It was a handmade book with a cover made of a slippery kind of leather. She opened to the first page. This was a Book of Electutric Enchantment. She wondered what that meant. She began reading.

The hours passed. The more Connie read, the more she realized how highly the magic was developed in the world. Though she understood the words in the books, the overall concepts remained just outside of her grasp. She felt as though she were a green stick college freshman who had been jumped into the middle of a graduate-level physics class. Along that same note, the magic seemed to actually bend the laws of physics. In reality, or on Earth, these things could not happen. Yet they happen here. This meant that either the laws of physics changed depending on your orientation in the universe or the true nature of the universe that had yet to be discovered on Earth, and they weren’t as smart as they had thought they were.

Feeling a bit bored and unable to sleep anymore, she walked around the apartment, looking for anything interesting she might have missed before. In one corner, hidden by a free-standing vanity shade, she was surprised to find a porcelain device that looked like a toilet and a large circular bathtub. She was further surprised to find there was a faucet and a drain in the tub. So they have plumbing here! she thought. She turned the handle on the faucet. Water poured into the tub. She felt the water with her hand. To her dismay, the water was ice-cold. She looked for another faucet. There was none. Unfortunately, there was only one faucet. Apparently, the Cerinyans did not believe in hot water. Connie debated turning off the faucet until she spotted a blue porcelain cup with a half-dozen translucent, pencil-sized rods of varied color. At first, she wondered if Alyndia used these rods to write while she was in the tub, but then she had a feeling about the rods. She sensed they were somehow connected to the bath directly. The tub was filling up. She reached into the stream of water rushing from the faucet. The water remained cold.

She plucked one of the rods from the cup and held it up in the weak light. It seemed to be merely a glass rod, or at most, a small wand. This one had a thin, red stripe inside. She would have guessed this rod to be a kind of thermometer, except this one did not have graduations for measurement. Furthermore, the rod felt warm in her hand, far warmer than room temperature.

On a whim, she dipped the end of the wand into the bathwater. Seconds after she did this, there came a hissing sound, and a waft of steam rushed into her face from the water. This effect startled her so much she nearly fell back to the floor. She touched the water with her hand. To her utter amazement, the water was hot. It was so hot, in fact, that it nearly scalded her.

“Wow!” she said aloud in wonderment, staring at the wand in her hand. The wand appeared unchanged except for a bit of steam rising off the end where it breached the water. She took the other wands out of the cup. She examined each one. The wands were identical except for the color of the stripe that ran through their centers. They ranged in intensity from light pink to deep red. She guessed that each wand was calibrated to heat the water to a certain temperature. As chance would have it, she had pulled out the second-deepest red wand of the bunch, thereby heating up the water nearly as hot as she could. Fortunately, the tub is still only a little more than half full. She estimated that the additional icy water rushing into the tub would cool it enough for her to jump in after the tub had filled.

She put the wands back into the cup and left the tub for the larger part of the apartment. She undressed herself while viewing herself in the mirror, still not believing it was her reflection she saw. She stood nude in front of the mirror to broadly examine her body. She spun around, not taking her eyes off her reflection. The first thing she noted was that her skin was smooth and feminine, and her hair was distributed in the same places. She squeezed her arms and legs. She was certainly not as well-built as she used to be, but her muscles were firm and surrounded by very little extra fat. She examined her neck and her chest, running her hands over the bones of her rib cage. Everything felt normal, though her breastbone felt wider than she thought it would be. She gently cupped her right breast beneath her hand, noting its contour and shape. Her breasts were not as large as her previous ones, but they were proportionate to her slender figure. She poked at her navel with her finger, then she spun around once again, this time in the other direction. She decided her new body was passably attractive. In any case, she thought, it would have to do, for she was stuck with it.

After the bathtub had filled, she turned off the faucet. She touched the water with her big toe. The water felt perfect, inviting. All at once, she stepped into the tub, knelt down, and slipped deep into the water, allowing it to cover her up to her neck. The water felt refreshing, and it invigorated her. She closed her eyes and savored the feeling. At that moment, a peculiar thought crept into her mind. If Professor Layton was right about the environment in Alyndia’s world, she just had immersed herself in hydrochloric acid. She laughed at this thought. If she were back in her world, her body would be dissolving into so much mush. She pondered what kind of peculiar chemistry of this world made the acid seem like water. And it wasn’t only flesh that did not dissolve in the acid; the rocks, the metals, and even cloth seemed resistant to it. Maybe this world was composed primarily of elements and compounds that were rare on earth, or maybe it was composed of weird elements that did not exist there. She did not ponder these questions for long, as she wanted to savor the feeling of the warm acid on her skin. She found a glass container of what appeared to be bath salts and added them to the water. The room was filled with the fragrance of a flower she could name but could not visualize, and it made the water feel velvety on her skin.

“Ah! This is the life,” she said, leaning back in the tub, relishing the warm water. She noticed a pocket-sized, leather-bound book with a bookmark in it within arms reach of the tub. She picked it up. On the cover was the simple title, “The Wicked Countess.” On a whim, she opened the book to the bookmarked page and began reading. By the first paragraph, she realized it was some kind of romance novel. Normally, such books did not interest her. Nonetheless, she decided to read further.

The story was told from the point of view of a female protagonist. She was a young enchantress at an evening ball in some court, and there was a handsome but rakish young man of a lower social status who lusted after her, but she could not be with him, as she was married to an old but wealthy duke. After they parley some lines, he pulled her aside to a secluded place in the garden, where he starts kissing her and stroking her body. As Connie read, she thought she could actually feel the man stroking her own body, and the more she read and the more he touched her, the more she found herself getting aroused. The tub seemed to be getting cooler by the second. And then the man untied her blouse, tore away the cloth beneath that bound her breasts, and then he— “Oh, my!” Connie said. She abruptly closed the book and tossed it aside out of reach. What kind of magic is that? she wondered, fanning herself in an effort to cool her state of arousal.

After that, Connie fixated her mind on more tranquil thoughts, recalling a sunny afternoon years before when she and MacGregor, on assignment in Europe, shared a gondola in Venice. She remembered how the gondola drifted slowly through the canal, passing beneath ancient stone bridges. She lay in the tub in such a state for a long time, getting out only after the bath had cooled enough that it had become intolerable. Feeling clean and refreshed from the bath, she slipped into a clean robe and resumed reading the spell books on the couch. After a while, she nodded off to sleep, the book still in her lap. She was awoken suddenly by a rap on her door. The room was lighter now, and early morning sunlight beamed straight through the shutters at the window, projecting a stack of thin, yellow bars on the wall behind her. She groggily got up and stumbled to the door, nearly tripping on one of the tomes scattered to the floor. The knocking came again. “I’m coming,” Alyndia said, wondering who would be calling on her that early in the morning.

She opened the door to find Jalban standing there, his face wearing a forlorn expression. Sind stood beside him. The boy’s face was streaked with tears.

“Connie!” Sind cried out. With that, he rushed to her to embrace her, nearly knocking her over.

“What’s going on here?”

“My brother!” Sind cried into her robe.

“What happened?”

“He’s dead. They killed him.” Sind cried openly now.

This outpouring of grief bewildered her. “Sind, what are you talking about? Who killed him?”

Jalban crossed his arms, still waiting for an answer.

Connie waited for him to say something further, but the cat seemed to catch his tongue. She now feared the worst. She put her arms around Sind.

“What happened, Jalban?”

“They’re dead,” he said, his voice trembling. “They were all dead. Just like we saw at the Castle Maray.”

The news stunned Connie. “How do you know? Who told you this?” she asked.

“Yalden, the brother of Rahl. He went there to fetch Jenada and the infant. When he arrived, they were dead, torn to pieces by Chaos.”

“Oh, no!” Connie said.

Sind pushed himself away from her. “My brother’s dead!” he said to her with a tear-streaked face. “You said he would be safe! I believed you! I believed you when you told me he would be safe with the lady! And now he’s dead!”

“Sind—I had no idea!” Connie said. She was at a loss for words.

She let the two of them into the apartment and shut the door. She felt confused and she began to sweat. Now for a moment, she felt herself leave her body. She saw herself standing in the middle of the room with books scattered everywhere while Sind balled and Jalban trembled. Then time seemed to slow down. She shook off the feeling and snapped back into the moment, and she returned to her body.

“I’m so sorry, Sind,” Connie said, feeling remorse at losing the trust he had given her so willingly and so openly.

“You lied!” he shouted to her face. Then he fell to the floor, where he began weeping inconsolably.

Connie knelt beside him and gently rubbed his back. “It’s all right, Sind.”

“I spoke to Rahl about you,” Jalban said to Connie. “He and Sind stayed with me last night at my home. He told me of your visit to the temple and what was said of your true nature.”

“And?” she asked without looking up.

At first, Connie thought he was going to apologize, but then he said something unexpected.

“I want to know what you did to the spirit of my niece.”

Connie winced on hearing the question. “What?”

“What did you do to my niece?”

“Let me get this straight: You want to know what I did to Alyndia? What about what she did to me? Do you think I asked to come here?”

“You cast a spell upon her to inhabit her body.”

“I did nothing of the sort. She’s the one who cast the spell.”

“Alyndia was a well-respected sorceress in this city. She would never just vacate her body so that some stranger could take it over.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, Jalban. I’m the victim here—not her.”

“How do I know you’re telling me the truth? How do I know you’re not a demon who has occupied the body of my niece?”

Connie sighed. “I’m in no mood to discuss the matter with you. After beating me as you did, you should be surprised I’m even talking to you.”

Jalban crossed his arms, still waiting for an answer.

“Fine,” Connie said, rising to her feet. “A few days ago I put on an iridium bracelet confiscated from a man I was investigating for aiding a terrorist. The next thing I remember was waking up in that bed.” She walked over to the table and picked up the letter Alyndia left. “Here, Jalban,” she said as she handed it to him. “Read the missive your lovely niece Alyndia left for you before you accuse me of anything more.”

He took the parchment and stuffed it into his belt without opening it. “I’ll read it later.”

Sind continued crying. Connie looked to him with sympathy. Though she was not directly responsible, she felt guilty, for she really thought that leaving his brother with Jenada was a good idea. An image flashed into her mind of the mutilated, dismembered bodies they saw at the Castle of Maray and the surrounding town. She felt a visceral ache in her breast when she envisioned Sind’s beloved brother ending up the same way. Connie was suddenly filled with hatred of this force they called Chaos that had done this. The force had to be stopped, and she wanted a piece of the action. She owed this to Sind.

“Jalban, where is Rahl?”

“Calicus summoned him for a meeting. He should be there now. The others should be there, too. Apparently, a bracelet is missing. It’s a problem.”

“I feel kind of responsible for that.”

At that moment, Connie made the decision to go on the quest to the Atranox, too. She began collecting her spell books and node containers and proceeded to stuff them into the packs. While doing so, she realized that the Featherlight spell cast on them the day before was no longer working. Sind stopped crying and looked up at her.

“What are you doing?” Jalban asked.

“I’m going on the quest with Rahl.”

“You cannot do that.”

“I can’t, you say? Watch me,” she said, collecting books to put into the pack.

“You are not a spellcaster. You will not make any meaningful contribution to our quest. Besides that, you might harm the body of my niece.”

“Your niece is gone. Get used to that, Jalban. I am her now. I’m sorry if that troubles you, but even I don’t have a choice.”

Now Sind was on his feet. He stared at Connie. The intensity in his expression startled her.

“I want to go with you,” he stated.

Connie stopped what she was doing for a moment and gazed at him evenly. “No, Sind, you stay here.”

“But Chaos killed my brother. I want to kill Chaos.”

“I’m sorry. You cannot go. I won’t allow it. I don’t know what this Chaos looks like, but you know as well as I do that it’s very dangerous. We’ve both seen what it can do.”

“But my brother—” he began.

“No. I won’t hear of it,” she said. “You stay here at my apartment. Wait for me. There is food here, a soft place to sleep, and lots of books to read. I will return when the quest is finished.”

Connie gave Sind a lingering stare to ascertain he understood her. She was about to start packing the bags when she recalled how heavy and awkward they were to carry when full. She knew she would not be able to carry them herself across town to Calicus’ place. She needed a hanyak. She went over to the window and pulled back the shades. Bright yellow light filled the small room. She twisted the latch on the window, pushed it open, and peered down at the street. There she saw Jalban’s hanyak along with a barak of Sind, tied to a metal ring set into the building. She turned to Jalban.

“I need to use your hanyak to carry these bags to where the meeting will be.”

“You are not going on the quest,” he said gruffly.

“It’s not your choice, Jalban.”

“It’s not yours, either.”

“Jalban, why don’t we both go to see Calicus together? He’s organizing the quest. Right? Let him decide whether I should go. Let Rahl decide.”

“And what if they refuse you?”

“Then I’ll stay here in Roggentine with Sind—or maybe I’ll go anyway.”

“You are a fool,” he scoffed. “You don’t even know how to cast spells. You will be as useful as a rafe in a forest of sharm.”

Connie could not decipher the intricacy of this simile, but she knew it was just another way to say she’d be worthless to Rahl on his quest. This treatment from Jalban would not do. She stepped up to him at the doorway and stared squarely into his eyes.

“You listen to me, Jalban. Since I’ve been in this rotten world, all anyone has done is talk down to me and treat me as if I were some kind of second-class citizen, which I know I’m not. But yesterday I received a beating from you that I would not allow any man to do to me and live to see the next day. I despise you for what you have done. But now that you have the knowledge that I am not Alyndia the Sorceress, you should make amends to me for what you have done. For this, I am demanding that you allow me to use your hanyak so that I may at least meet with Rahl and Calicus at the wizard’s place.” She moved her face a few inches closer to his. “Don’t you think you owe me this favor?”

A thick film of sweat had formed on Jalban’s forehead. Connie continued staring into his eyes. Now his face was beginning to turn green. Finally, he took a step back from her.

“Very well. You can use my hanyak to carry your packs.”

“Thank you, Jalban. Wise decision on your part.”

She went back into the room with the packs and resumed filling them with any spell book or scroll that would fit into them.

“No, no! Jalban shouted to her from the doorway. “Just take the elemental spell books. Leave the others behind.”

“Right,” Connie said.

“We don’t need to take your whole library.”

Connie emptied out the packs and started packing the books again. She ended up packing the same seven that Alyndia had packed previously: Fire, Metal, Crystal, Water, Wood, Wind, and Light. After her books had been packed, she pulled a loaf of bread, dried meat, and aceralla root tea from the storage box and stuffed them into a large cloth bag. She packed some clothes and a few other items she thought she might need for the journey. Once the straps had been tightened and the cords secured, she carried the packs over to the door and dropped them at his feet, nearly stumbling for their weight.

“Now be a gentleman and carry these down to your hanyak,” she said to Jalban.

Jalban dutifully picked up the bags and carried them downstairs. Sind stared at Connie, his eyes filled with melancholy and yearning for the one most precious person in his life that had been lost. She knelt in front of him so that she was at eye level with him.

“Again, I am so sorry about your brother, Sind. Please forgive me. He was the safest in your arms.”

“I know it was not your fault they got him,” he admitted. “I’m sorry that I accused you.”

“Thank you for saying that, Sind. I feel bad for it anyway.” She stroked his hair away from his face. He had beautiful, expressive eyes. “I cannot bring back your brother, but I promise I will make whatever thing that took him from you pay for what it has done.”

“But Jalban is right. You cannot cast spells, Connie. What can you do?”

Connie grasped Sind by the shoulders. She looked at him squarely in the eyes. “I don’t honestly know yet. But by the blood of your brother, you may rest assured, I will keep my promise. Now, are you going to be all right here by yourself?”

He nodded slowly.

“Good. Now be a big boy and take good care of my apartment. And if I don’t come back, the apartment and everything inside are yours. All right?”

“But I want you to come back.”

“I’ll do my best.”

She stood up and scanned the room for anything important she might be leaving behind. Then she remembered the romance novel. She went over to the bathtub and picked it up. “I’ll take this along with me,” she said to Sind. “It probably wouldn’t interest you anyway.”

Jalban and Connie made haste through the city to Calicus’ residence. When they arrived, Connie caught a glimpse of Rahl’s hanyak (among many others) in the private stable nearby. Connie jumped off the hanyak at the gate and pulled the rope there. She pressed herself against the gate, clutching the bars. Jalban stood behind her. A short while later, Snow exited the main door. She paused for a brief instant when she saw Connie standing at the gate.

“What do you want?” Snow said to her.

“I want to see Calicus.”

“He is busy.”

“Then I want to see Rahl.”

“Rahl is not here,” she said. “Come back another day.” She turned to head back to the building.

“You lie! Rahl’s hanyak is here at the stable. That one right there.”

Snow spun around. Her eyes were filled with anger. “Leave us, Connie. We are preparing for a quest. You have not been invited to join.”

“That’s not true. Rahl has invited me, and so has Theo.”

“I know nothing about this.”

Snow looked at Jalban. He said nothing to either confirm or deny what Connie had said. The sorceress returned her attention to Connie.

“I don’t believe you,” she said finally.

“It’s true,” Connie said. “Aren’t we supposed to be at a meeting right now?”

A look of uncertainty appeared on Snow’s face.

Jalban spoke up, his voice issuing behind Connie. “She speaks the truth, Snow. We are late merely because my hanyak needed shoes. We have just brought him from the blacksmith.”

Now Snow’s look of doubt in Connie turned to worry, like perhaps she thought she may be wrong. Surprised at Jalban’s unsolicited lie for her benefit, Connie turned her head and silently mouthed a grateful “thank you” to him. He gave her a slight nod.

Snow gestured to Connie to release her grip on the gate, then she waved her hand, and the gate soundlessly swung open for them. Connie and Jalban quickly passed through the stone arch and made a beeline through the garden for the door to Calicus’ home.

Snow caught up to them before they opened the door. “Wait! You must be patient,” she said to Connie.

“Patience is not one of my virtues.”

Snow let them into the building, up a flight of stairs, and through a maze of stacked books to a large meeting hall where Rahl, Theo, and a host of others sat at a large, rectangular table. Calicus sat in a huge chair (for his frame) at the head of the table. A meeting was in progress, and on the table before them lay a number of colorful, hand-drawn maps, charts, and diagrams. Despite the abundance of light outside, heavy, brown drapes shut out the light, leaving the task of lighting to a vastly large chandelier above the table, on which were lit perhaps a few dozen candles burning with small, blue flames.

To Connie’s dismay, Snow sat down immediately to Calicus’ left at the head of the table, across from Rahl. Jalban sat down next to Theo and Yalden. There were three rough-looking men at arms sitting across the table from her. Fandia was there, too. Of the original group she'd met previously, only Tristana was absent.

The room had gone abruptly silent when Connie entered. Those who Connie had met looked surprised to see her and Jalban. Rahl and Calicus looked at Snow, who had led her in along with Jalban. At that moment, Snow realized she had been duped. She spoke first to answer their collective, unvoiced question.

“They lied to me,” she said.

“What are you doing here?” Rahl said to Connie, glaring at her.

“I heard what happened in Zeranon. I want to join the quest.”

Rahl turned to Calicus, who in turn, intensified his gaze on her. Connie felt him scrutinizing her again from head to toe with his venerable eyes. She wondered what exactly she was looking at.

Rahl rested his eyes on her again. “You cannot join us.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Because you are not a spellcaster, you’re not a healer, nor are you a warrior.”

“What does that matter?”

“Ours is a dangerous quest.”

“Of course it’s dangerous. It wouldn’t be a quest if it weren’t dangerous, would it?” she quipped.

“But we will be venturing into lands unvisited by Cerinyans in hundreds of years, and Chaos will be present.”

“I don’t care. I want to go.”

Rahl looked to Calicus, then to Theo. Theo met his gaze and raised his eyebrows.

Theo turned to Connie and said, “What Rahl really means is that we may not be able to protect you perchance we are attacked by the minions, and you will not be able to return here once we leave.”

“Theo, I don’t need anyone to protect me. I can pull my own weight.”

Snow let out a loud sigh so that everyone could hear. Connie ignored her.

“The lady is persistent,” the largest of the rough-looking men said. “I say we should let her join us if she wants to so badly.”

“Yes, and she may provide the warmth of many blankets at night,” another said.

At that, the three of them broke out in laughter. This remark incensed Connie. She looked around the table and was relieved to see that the three unfamiliar men were the only ones who laughed at this poor excuse for mirth. Connie shrugged off their laughter. She took a step toward the table. “Please, Rahl. Let me join you. I’ll do everything I can to aid you in your quest.”

“Like what?” Snow asked, her voice tinged with skepticism. “Like throwing porcelain cups?”

Connie continued. “There are things in my world you have never dreamed of. We have machines that perform the same function as your magic. These are things that may help you in your quest. I can show them to you.”

Rahl looked to Calicus, who still held a steady gaze on Connie. “What is your call, great wizard?”

“You are the Swordbearer, Rahl, not me,” the wizard responded, shifting his fragile bones on the seat cushion of his plush, oversized chair. “Your discretion dictates the spirits who will accompany you on your quest.”

Rahl looked to Connie. “Do you realize we may fail?”.

“Failure is not an option, Rahl. Without a doubt, we will succeed.”

Rahl smiled, apparently liking this answer. “What if you are killed? Do you remember what happened to those people at the Castle Maray? Do you not fear death?”

“In my world, I have faced death many times, in many forms. It doesn’t frighten me.”

Rahl looked to Theo. Theo nodded once.

“Very well, Connie. You may join us.”

Snow broke in before Rahl could finish speaking. “I protest allowing her to join us. She will burden the party.”

“She said she will pull her own weight,” Rahl said. “She has been truthful with me. Her word is good.”

“But how can you believe anything she says? She even lied to me to get up here to see you.”

“Perhaps she did, but probably not without good reason. I sense her determination.”

“Thank you, Rahl,” Connie said.

Snow persisted, not taking her eyes off Connie. “But she will eat our food. She will consume our healing spells when she is hurt.”

“I wouldn’t want you to waste a healing spell on me, Snow,” Connie shot back.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I would not.”

“Ladies, please!” Rahl interrupted, trying to ease the tension in the room.

“She must not be included in our quest,” Snow said firmly.

Rahl scowled at Snow. “It is not your place to decide. I am the leader of this quest.”

On hearing this, Snow looked away from both of them, pouting with her full lips. It was evident to all in the room that the matter had been decided. Theo pulled out a vacant wooden stool for Connie. She took a seat.

Calicus cleared his throat. “Now that the matter has been decided, let us continue,” he said. Using what looked like a wand, he pointed out a section of an old-looking map laid out on the table. “You will travel through these three lands on your way to the Atranox. Here in Syzthedia, you will retrieve a talisman…”

While Calicus spoke, Connie studied the parchments spread across the table before her. Partially obscured by Theo’s hands, she spotted a faded watercolor diagram on parchment of the seven-sided bracelet she put on back in her world. She wondered how the absence of this bracelet impacted their plans.

Calicus seemed to notice her staring at the diagram. He broke his discourse to address her directly. “That is called the Heptakon, Connie. It is indeed important to your quest.”

Connie was at once started that had read her thoughts. “Alyndia transported the bracelet to my world. I held it in my own hands.” She looked up at Calicus. “I don’t understand. Why would Alyndia send such an important artifact to my world if you needed it so badly?”

He shrugged. “She must not have had knowledge of its ancient history. I have heard since that her mother had handed it down to her. Perhaps even her mother did not know. My guess is that she was using its unique properties as a kind of beacon to guide her spirit to your world.”

“Can we get it back?”

“I’m afraid that would be next to impossible at this time.”

“So, how are we going to complete the quest if we can’t get it back?”

“The Katarrh who created the artifacts were wise. They anticipated that one day the artifacts might be scattered, so they created duplicates of them. We are fortunate to know of the existence of at least one other bracelet. This one is located in the land of Syzthedia. As luck would have it, it is near the talisman that you must retrieve from there, although I cannot vouch for its accessibility. It could be buried in a landslide or deep underground in a collapsed cave. You will know more about the situation when you arrive there.”

“You mean, we might have to dig for it?” one of the men at the far side of the table asked.

“That could take weeks or months,” another one added.

“Indeed. Or even worse, it could be guarded by a dragon or some other fearsome creature. But do not despair until you know more.”

“How will we be able to find the artifacts once we are there?” the first man asked.

“You will locate the artifacts with this, Maltokken." Calicus said, addressing one of the men. He withdrew a small twig from his robe and laid it on the table in front of them.

“What is that?” he asked.

Just as the words left the man’s lips, the twig smoothly expanded longer to a stick, and then to a staff the length that an average man is tall. “This is the Eselomic staff. You may use it to find the artifacts. The special enchantment is such that you will be able to locate any of the Katarrh artifacts within a league or two, maybe a bit farther, depending on the terrain.”

“Why such a short range?” Theo asked him, being careful not to sound disparaging.

“We did the best we could,” Snow said. “These are ancient artifacts. Their enchantment is subdued, very difficult to detect, even when they are handled. That’s probably why even Alyndia did not know of the previous enchantment to the bracelet she used.”

Theo nodded slowly, rubbing his chin. “Ancient magic indeed.”

“Intrinsically celestial too,” Snow added.

Connie had returned her gaze to the map on the table while they spoke. She followed the blue ink line Calicus had drawn across its surface. She did not know the scale of the map, but it looked as though they would be traveling some great distances—plains, mountains, deserts, and even across a sea.

“How long will this journey take?” Connie asked.

“You have three years,” Calicus replied.

Connie stood up. “Three years?!”

“No,” Calicus, corrected, “You have at most three years to fulfill your quest. By that time, the spell at the Atranox will have expired, and there will not be anything left worth saving.”

“You may still back out of this, Connie,” Rahl said without malice, seemingly sympathetic to her.

All eyes at the table fell upon Connie. At that moment, she realized she had to make a decision. Snow stared at Connie with eager eyes. She knew what Snow wanted. Snow seemed to be willing Connie to back out, egging her to cower away from the onerous quest. But Connie resisted this when her mind fell back on Sind’s lost brother. She had to avenge his death. She decided she would follow through on her word to Sind. Furthermore, she did not want to give Snow the satisfaction of her backing out.

“I will go,” she said, directing these words more to Snow than to Rahl.

Snow stared at Connie, her eyes brimming with petulance.

Rahl smiled at Connie. “It is brave of you to volunteer for this quest, even though you are not of this world.”

“It’s better than sitting at home doing nothing. By the way, did you all hear about what happened to Sind’s brother?”

“Yes, the boy,” Calicus said. “Tragic, indeed. But it is only a small taste of the tragedy yet to befall this land should you all fail.”

The meeting continued for another half-hour or so, after which Calicus wished the party luck and dismissed them. As the party filed out the doorway and down the stairs to the street outside where their riding animals awaited them, Calicus asked Connie to stay behind so that they might speak in private.

“How do you feel?” Calicus asked her once they were alone.

“I suppose I feel as well as I can considering what has happened to me,” she replied.

“Your spirit is a poor fit for the new vessel,” he said, eying her from head to toe again with his dark eyes. “But you are making it fit. You are able to do so because you are strong-willed.”

Connie took in his words, uncertain whether he meant this as a compliment or notice of an impediment. Perhaps it was both.

“This morning I had a conversation with Snow about your state,” he continued. “Yours is a most unusual situation.”

“Can it be reversed, do you think?” she asked. “Will I ever see my world again?”

“Only with the correct combination of spells can you be restored to your vessel of birth. And then, only if Alyndia is willing. Otherwise, I’m afraid you will remain with us until your dying day.”

“Where is Alyndia’s spirit right now?”

“In your vessel in your world.”

“Does she know about my situation?”

“I believe she does. A small vestige of her spirit remains with you. I see it. It is weak, only a faint shadow superimposed on yours and connected across the ether with a silvery thread. This shadow could only exist if she is alive somewhere.”

Calicus took a seat in his great chair. Connie sat where Snow had been sitting earlier. She felt her warmth in the seat of the chair.

“Your state, Connie. It is the result of a broken spell and a violation of Spiritual Law. What has happened to you should never have happened.”

Connie felt uncomfortable with Calicus’ words. He made her condition sound quite serious, if not ultimately fatal. She wanted to leave the room to join the others, but a hunch told her the wizard had something more in store for her. She waited.

“But I pity you,” he continued. “You never sought this place, and yet you are here. I would like to help you return.”

“Would you really do that?” Connie asked.

“I will try. Snow has informed me that Alyndia procured some rare spell books. I believe that by researching the information in these books, I may be able to determine the nature of the spells she cast, precisely why they failed, and how to undo the damage. I will research it while you are on your quest.”

“I would appreciate that. And while I’m away, can you look after Sind for me? He’s in Alyndia’s apartment.”

“Yes. Perhaps I will even bring him here. I can use the help, as I am sending Fandia on the quest with you.”

“Thank you, Calicus. That’s very kind of you.”

“Before you leave, Connie, I will also need a lock of Alyndia’s hair. Can you provide this?”

“Of course.”

He handed her a jeweled dagger that was lying on the table. “You must do this yourself. Be careful with this. It is very sharp.”

Gingerly, she took the dagger and measured a two-inch length of hair by holding the edge against the lock. “Will this be enough?”

“Yes. That will do.”

Connie moved her hand to slice off the lock. She half-expected that she would have to hack through the clump of hair, but the blade passed through it without any effort whatsoever. Its unusual keenness nearly caught her off guard. Calicus directed her to drop the lock of hair into a clay dish he had on the table, which she did. She put down the dagger very carefully.

“You’re right. That dagger is very sharp.”

“It has an enchantment.”

“Really? An enchantment did that?”

“Oh, yes. And enchantments can do a lot more.”

“Wow,” she said, fluffing out her hair so that the missing locks didn’t show. “Calicus, I don’t mean to sound cynical—but why are you interested in helping me?”

He smiled. “Connie, it is rare that I meet someone such as you. I would love to know more of your world. If you could share such knowledge with me someday, I would consider it payment in full.”

“What knowledge? Why do you care to know about my world?”

Calicus’ eyes took on a glazed appearance. “Connie, you know nothing of our lore. It was written long ago that spirits of our people visited another world thousands of years ago. These sorcerers observed and interacted with your race by possessing the vessels of lower creatures. Most records of these visits have long disappeared into antiquity. Only fragments remain. I believe that you originate from this world they visited.”

“I recall hearing something about this before. Some people think our ancient civilizations were visited by space aliens, who helped them build pyramids and such. I myself never believed it, though.”

He reached into a pocket of his robe and pulled out a steel cross with an elongated loop at the top. “Does this look familiar to you?”

Connie recognized the shape. “That is an Egyptian ankh.”

“Yes, it is an ankh, but Egyptian it is not.”

“It isn’t?”

Calicus shook his head. “They borrowed it from us. That is the symbol of mastery over the outer planes. It is also the symbol of a soul’s binding with the flesh.”

“Theo uses one of those to control Tristana.”

Calicus laughed heartily over that statement.

“What is so funny?” Connie asked, not understanding the sudden mirth behind Calicus’ laughter.

“Theo does not control Tristana. Tristana controls herself. That is why I did not allow her to enter my home.”

“Then what’s with the ankh?”

“She needs the ankh to guide her spirit back to its plane of origin. But she cannot take it back unless it is given back to her by the mage who possesses the ankh or he dies. “

“So the ankh does not give the holder power over her, right?” Connie asked.

“Correct. It serves only to keep her in our world, not to control her.”

“Shouldn’t we tell Theo this?”

Calicus gave her a sly look. “Would you tell a man the grehblin is rabid while his head is still in the tiger’s mouth?” Calicus rapped the ankh on the table a few times. “Maybe you don’t realize that you yourself have already been manipulated by her.”

“I have not!”

“Ah! You have. Take her name, for example. Isn’t it Tristana?”

“I came up with that name,” Connie said proudly. “I thought it up, and everyone agreed to call her that.”

Calicus laughed again. “No, no child! That is her true name. She implanted that suggestion into your minds, and you followed the suggestion.”

“But the name comes from a word that means “one who is sad.” It really was my idea.”

“So you believe. But the fact remains—it is her true name. I know this. You see, the wizard who first conjured her and her five companions many years ago was my dear friend, Pallan. Her name is Tristana, and it always was.” The wizard smiled wryly at her naiveté. “Did you really believe you can name a conjuration from the void like a pet? I think not.”

Connie frowned. If what he said was true, then the universe was far stranger than she had ever imagined, and the ways of magic could be rather sly and subtle.

“Can she be killed if need be?”

“Of course. You need not fear her, though, for Theo has the will to control her. He lacks only experience. This afternoon I bequeathed to him a tome that will deepen his understanding of Tristana. If he is strong enough, he will make an ally of her, and she will aid you on your quest.”

“What if he is weak?”

“She will simply find a way to slay him indirectly, take back the ankh, and return from whence she came.”

“Wonderful,” Connie said dryly.

“Just do yourselves a favor and keep watch on her while he sleeps lest she get any ideas.”

“I’ll tell the group.”

Calicus turned his head stiffly toward a green sliver of light that shone past the curtain covering a window high above. “The hours are passing quickly. Your journey will commence soon. Your companions eagerly await you in the street.”

“All but one of them,” Connie said under her breath as she got to her feet.

“Ah, my Snow Angel!”

“Sorry, she is no angel to me, Calicus.”

“She may seem like a demon in your eyes, but her heart is pure iridium. You just fell to her bad side. Give her a chance to warm up to you.”

Connie doubted that would ever happen. Connie doubted she would even allow Snow to warm up to her if hell froze over. “What if she zaps me with one of her spells?”

“It is unlikely she will harm you permanently, and not without just cause. Just try not to make her mad at you.”

Connie did not like the way Calicus phrased that. Then Calicus frowned as he gazed into her. He seemed to be reading her expression, or her thoughts, or both.

“But you are defenseless. Rahl’s sword is keen, but times may come when it is not enough.” He got to his feet. “Rise,” he told her.

Connie did as she was told. Now she stood before the old wizard. For his bent spine, she was inches taller than he. With stiff, arthritic movement, he raised the ankh medallion above her head and dropped the chain around her neck. The amulet bounced to the fabric of her robe suspended between her breasts.

“This will protect you from many common, harmful spells if you are unable to cast spells of your own,” he said. “Wear this medallion and never remove it.”

She held up the medallion and examined it. It appeared to be made of slightly tarnished silver.

Calicus smiled at her. “I made this a long time ago for a young apprentice of mine. She became powerful and outgrew its use.”

Connie turned over the medallion. Engraved on the back was the name: Elenglea Vanexay. Connie remembered Rahl had referred to Snow as “Elenglea” when he first saw her. “Snow,” Connie said.

“Very good,” Calicus said. “I named her that.”

Connie dropped the medallion into her robe to conceal it from view. She was already trying to solve the riddle of how she merited the name.

“Go now. Your party awaits you,” Calicus said.

“Thank you, Calicus.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Connie turned to leave the room. Once she got to the doorway, she thought she had the answer to the riddle. “It’s easy. It’s her hair. You named her Snow because of her hair.”

“Her hair is the color of grain,” Calicus shot back.

Connie thought again. She took another step, then she stopped when she thought she knew the answer. “Her skin. She has white skin.”

“Many have white skin. Snow is not special for her white skin.”

Connie frowned. She started for the exit again. Once at the exit, she stopped. She turned to the wizard, who watched her from the table. His expression told her he enjoyed this exchange.

“Does she like to wear white?” she asked.

“She prefers red,” he replied.

“Does she like the cold?”

“Not more than anyone else.”

“Is it because she has a cold heart?”

“No. Her heart is of the purest iridium.”

“Is it the spells she casts?”

“No celestial spell causes cold.”

“Is she chaste?”

He smiled. “Not as much as she would want us to believe.”

“Does she remind you of an old lover?”

“None that I recall.”

“Does it have to do with her religion?”

“No such religion.”

“Is it just some whimsical name you pulled out of the air?”

“Oh, no. There’s a definite reason.”

“Then why do you call her Snow?” she asked. “Please tell me.”

Calicus answered only after a long pause that seemed an eternity to her. “Connie, if you should ever find out on your own the reason I call Elenglea ‘Snow,’ it would mean that you are on the path to becoming a great sorceress in your own right. Farewell, now—and may the gods grant you good fortune on your quest.”