House, but you have to agree to leave me be. No more pulling me back and forth. I’ll do your bidding as best as I can. But I’ll fight you if you whisk me away without warning again.”
A row of cilia waved along Braxidane’s farthest edge, stretching toward the flow.
“I thought your friend led the Freeborn.”
“Darien is my friend, but he cannot succeed.”
And at that moment, Garrick knew what he said was true.
Darien was familiar with people who wanted to be led, but Torean mages had no interest in organization. Their support at the outset had buoyed Darien’s spirit, but he had been doomed to failure.
Yet, leading the Freeborn was important to Darien. Wresting control from him would be devastating.
“I’ll keep Darien with me,” Garrick said. “It will work out.”
“I don’t care about Darien one way or the other,” Braxidane said, flashing the color of a smile.
Garrick paused. The idea of being responsible for the mages scared him. But whether he deemed himself a worthy leader or not, the Freeborn would respond to him, and there was no one else on Adruin who could address those things that needed to be addressed. Actions and consequences. If the consequence of taking control of the Freeborn was that Adruin could be made free of the planewalkers, he was willing to take that action.
“I hold your promise, though,” Garrick said. “No meddling anywhere on Adruin.”
Braxidane pulsed a lack of care.
“I’ll refrain from my
meddling
in your dealings if that’s how it has to be—though you may find my distance troubling at some point.”
Garrick grinned. “That is how it has to be.”
Braxidane’s coloring dropped brightness, the blues growing dull and the greens drab. He turned, and waved what might have been a hand.
“Go, then,” Braxidane said.
And Garrick’s vision swam.
Chapter 20
Braxidane sat at his node, anticipating Hezarin’s arrival.
It would not be long.
He dipped a tendril into the stream of consciousness that connected the Thousand Worlds, letting currents cross over him, feeling the balance that existed here. Cause and effect. Action and consequence. The flow had a simplistic beauty that he would never grow tired of admiring.
Hezarin did not disappoint.
He tasted the metallic nature of her approach, coming upon him fast, her shape pulsing with blue and red heat.
“You will pay for this, Braxidane.”
“For what?”
“Don’t play stupid with me. You sent Garrick to Rastella.”
“And what if I did?”
“I had cordoned off that plane. Now anyone can get in there and—”
“Don’t waste my time with false premises, Hezarin.” Braxidane flashed with an acidic tone. “Rastella is a desolate place. It has no value to you. You blocked it off only to spite me.”
“The plane was mine, Braxidane.”
“No. The plane was mine. You stole it and placed a dictatorial puppet on the emperor’s throne, and then you gave him the robe so he could control the links.”
Hezarin glared.
“You are, again, coming very close to violating every agreement we’ve ever made, Hezarin. That robe was one step too far.”
“You’re the one who sent a foreign mage into Rastella.”
“Only after you opened the door and gave that mage the power of All Existence.”
“Karasacti,” Hezarin said with spite. “The man’s name is Karasacti.”
“I believe,” Braxidane snapped back, “the correct tense is
was
. As in the man’s name
was
Karasacti. It is not my fault that he was not powerful enough to handle the gift you gave him, though.”
Hezarin emitted waves of animosity.
“Laugh while you can, Braxidane,” he finally said.
Then she stepped back into the flow and was gone before Braxidane could reply.
He grumbled. An upset burn permeated the center of his being. Hezarin was right in that he had stretched the rules. Sending Garrick to Rastella was no more allowable than Hezarin’s theft, but the fact that she had violated the agreements wouldn’t
A row of cilia waved along Braxidane’s farthest edge, stretching toward the flow.
“I thought your friend led the Freeborn.”
“Darien is my friend, but he cannot succeed.”
And at that moment, Garrick knew what he said was true.
Darien was familiar with people who wanted to be led, but Torean mages had no interest in organization. Their support at the outset had buoyed Darien’s spirit, but he had been doomed to failure.
Yet, leading the Freeborn was important to Darien. Wresting control from him would be devastating.
“I’ll keep Darien with me,” Garrick said. “It will work out.”
“I don’t care about Darien one way or the other,” Braxidane said, flashing the color of a smile.
Garrick paused. The idea of being responsible for the mages scared him. But whether he deemed himself a worthy leader or not, the Freeborn would respond to him, and there was no one else on Adruin who could address those things that needed to be addressed. Actions and consequences. If the consequence of taking control of the Freeborn was that Adruin could be made free of the planewalkers, he was willing to take that action.
“I hold your promise, though,” Garrick said. “No meddling anywhere on Adruin.”
Braxidane pulsed a lack of care.
“I’ll refrain from my
meddling
in your dealings if that’s how it has to be—though you may find my distance troubling at some point.”
Garrick grinned. “That is how it has to be.”
Braxidane’s coloring dropped brightness, the blues growing dull and the greens drab. He turned, and waved what might have been a hand.
“Go, then,” Braxidane said.
And Garrick’s vision swam.
Chapter 20
Braxidane sat at his node, anticipating Hezarin’s arrival.
It would not be long.
He dipped a tendril into the stream of consciousness that connected the Thousand Worlds, letting currents cross over him, feeling the balance that existed here. Cause and effect. Action and consequence. The flow had a simplistic beauty that he would never grow tired of admiring.
Hezarin did not disappoint.
He tasted the metallic nature of her approach, coming upon him fast, her shape pulsing with blue and red heat.
“You will pay for this, Braxidane.”
“For what?”
“Don’t play stupid with me. You sent Garrick to Rastella.”
“And what if I did?”
“I had cordoned off that plane. Now anyone can get in there and—”
“Don’t waste my time with false premises, Hezarin.” Braxidane flashed with an acidic tone. “Rastella is a desolate place. It has no value to you. You blocked it off only to spite me.”
“The plane was mine, Braxidane.”
“No. The plane was mine. You stole it and placed a dictatorial puppet on the emperor’s throne, and then you gave him the robe so he could control the links.”
Hezarin glared.
“You are, again, coming very close to violating every agreement we’ve ever made, Hezarin. That robe was one step too far.”
“You’re the one who sent a foreign mage into Rastella.”
“Only after you opened the door and gave that mage the power of All Existence.”
“Karasacti,” Hezarin said with spite. “The man’s name is Karasacti.”
“I believe,” Braxidane snapped back, “the correct tense is
was
. As in the man’s name
was
Karasacti. It is not my fault that he was not powerful enough to handle the gift you gave him, though.”
Hezarin emitted waves of animosity.
“Laugh while you can, Braxidane,” he finally said.
Then she stepped back into the flow and was gone before Braxidane could reply.
He grumbled. An upset burn permeated the center of his being. Hezarin was right in that he had stretched the rules. Sending Garrick to Rastella was no more allowable than Hezarin’s theft, but the fact that she had violated the agreements wouldn’t
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