Garrett and Red Fox Claws approach the tower. The door is hanging open and a lantern is sitting on a table just inside.
Garrett draws his sword as he slowly approaches the doorway, holding it low yet ready - a position of caution rather than one of attack. He squints, trying to cut the outdoor light so he can see deeper into the building.
"Hullo?" he calls out. "Anyone here?" He passes the sword through the doorway first, gingerly moving it from side to side and then up and down along the door frame, hoping to set off any potential traps with steel rather than skin.
Just as Garrett runs his sword along the door frame, there's a tremendous crash like breaking glass from the inside and someone says "Aaah--Ooof!"
Garrett flattens himself against the outside of the doorframe and throws an arm out to shield Red Fox Claws as well. After a moment of listening, he peeks cautiously around the edge of the frame. "Who's there?! Show yourself," he calls out with all the authority his young voice can muster.
Red Fox Claws says "There's stairs around the corner. Came from there, I'm thinking."
Before Garrett can respond, he hears a familiar voice from within the tower.
"Garrett!! No Pattern!!"
Brennan.
Glancing back at Red Fox Claws, Garrett nods toward the interior and enters the tower, his sword at the ready.
Red Fox Claws has a sword out as well. His is shorter and not as well made as Garrett's but looks serviceable. He follows the prince into the entry chamber and heads for the stairs. There's some furniture in a heap at the top of the stairs; it might've made that crash.
Red Fox Claws is on the stairs, taking them two at a time. He's quite spry for his age.
The older man gets the jump on Garrett, both because of his familiarity with the tower's layout and his unexpected vigor. The young prince quickly catches up with him, but does not try to pass on the narrow tower stairs. He remains ready to scramble ahead swiftly though, if need be.
"That's Sir Brennan," Garrett explains to his companion as they climb.
From above, the voice calls out, "Follow my voice, and mind the gravity".
"The gravity?" Garrett calls back, more to see if this means anything to Red Fox Claws than to actually get an answer from Brennan.
Red Fox Claws hits the top of the stairs and stops, but there's room for Garrett to come up behind him.
Brennan comes down the stairs with Dignity behind him and there's a sudden shift and a single strange creaking noise as they get to into the hall. It comes from behind him, and Dignity says, "hey!" When Brennan looks back to see what's wrong, Dignity's lantern is hanging upside down.
They're standing on the ceiling, apparently.
Brennan gives a long-suffering sigh, not at Dignity, but at Weyland. "Yes, you're very clever," he mutters under his breath. He takes two immediate actions. First, he looks around to see if they've been here before; one level up from the ransacked area would put them back in the storage room with the creaking auto-bellows.
Second, he reaches into a pouch and withdraws a great fistful of tiny, shiny metal (but not magnetic) filings, gestures to Dignity to be careful of his eyes, and flings them in a great arc, trying to cover as much of the room they're in as possible, including the staircase they just came from. By watching through his third eye, he's trying to get a sense of exactly how gravity is working, here where Weyland has obviously broken it. Right now, all he knows is that he and Dignity are attracted to the ceiling, and the lantern isn't.
The shiny metal filings fall to the ground under Brennan's head. Watching with his third eye, he sees no active sorcery affecting the filings as they fall, but there's some complicated sorcery on the hallway involving Gravity, unsurprisingly, and Entropy.
But, perhaps even more interesting to Brennan, is the way that the metal filings sink into the floor below Brennan and vanish.
"Well, that's odd," Brennan says. He points out what happened to Dignity, if he didn't see it. "I'm having the funny feeling it's a good thing we're up here and not down there. So to speak."
Brennan stands, lipsed pursed, torn between exploring the rest of this upside-down area, and investigating the weird floor right below them. The latter wins out. He left his grappling hook and rope far upstairs in case they needed a quick retreat, but that's all right-- it's highly likely Brennan and Dignity packed a spare rope and grappling hook. That being the case, it is also highly probable that Brennan takes hook, ties it to the rope, and lowers it down through the floor and beyond, by at least the thickness of a typical floor, then pulls it back up to see if he can, and what if anything happened to it.
The probability manipulation takes longer to work and is more difficult than Brennan would have otherwise expected, but that may be the amount of sorcery he's been doing and the further sorcery that is active on the hallway.
When Brennan drops the hook into the floor, there's no sudden change in the weight or momentum, but when he pulls the rope back up, it seems lighter, and the rope is sheared off neatly at the highest point that went through the floor.
Dignity says "Sir Brennan, your funny feeling was right."
Brennan scowls. "I half expected scorch marks or some sort of heat fatigue," he says, as he reels the rope back toward him. Once its there, he examines it more closely for those signs.
It's like it was sheared clean away. The only reason he can't tell for sure it that it's rope and thus naturally when it comes undone, the twists unwind a little and undo the perfection of the cut. Brennan does not see any evidence of heat damage. It's more like someone Parted the Veil on the floor and unParted it right there where the end of the rope was.
There's enough magic in this corridor that such an effect might be masked on the other side of the "floor".
One of the very most basic exercises that Clarissa taught Brennan of Entropy was this: Take a box of some fluid, call it water. In most places on this side of the Tree, at some level, fluids flow because they're made of small bits, and the chaos of the tiny bits is still subject to a greater law of averages. Pour hot and cold water in the right and left halves, and you end up with luke warm all over. Put red dye and blue dye in opposite corners, and you still end up with uniform purple... eventually. Those, she explained with false hauteur (weaker than her own, which is how he knew it was false) were the rules. The details varied from Shadow to Shadow, but the underlying principles had a certain uniformity, order imposed over chaos.
Now, imagine an invisible boundary between the right half and the left half. And imagine that only the hot water and red dye can pass from left to right, only the blue and cold can pass from right to left. Eventually, you're left with something unnatural to the eyes of Order: a box half of blue and half of red water, half of cold and half of hot. Clarissa had given it a fanciful name, called it a Demon of some sort, imagining a little creature acting as a traffic cop for water and dye. He'd asked, learned, and subsequently forgotten the name of the Demon, but the Principle itself had endlessly fascinated Brennan's eight year old mind. He remembered practicing and practicing until he could do it himself, then adding more colors of dye to clear glass bowls. Clarissa had been proud of him in a way Brand never had been, never could of been. Brand was always pleased with the tiniest of accomplishments, or utterly unpleasable....
Brennan shakes himself out of the reverie, and his scowl deepens-- because Brennan is a man of infinite depth-- and takes on a rather suspicious cast directed at the floor below them.
Did it seem to Brennan that the weight of the grappling hook, the pull of it toward and through the floor, disappeared as he was feeding it through the floor? Or only after he tried to pull it back?
When he tried to pull it back.
And is it plausible by Brennan's understanding of things that Entropy might be at play here, on a grander scale than his boyhood experiments? That, Parted Veil or not, Weyland might have made a one way gate through the floor?
It's possible because it's Sorcery, but the power scale involved is huge.
Regardless the results of that, he tells Dignity, "Okay, stay very close. You know the drill, both of you. Anything unusual, sing out." With that, they'll proceed to try and get the lay of the rest of this inverted level. They'll also take it slow, and Brennan has several rather blatant spells in mind to use if their personal gravity suddenly rights itself.
"Well. Anything new and unusual."
The rooms on this level are surprisingly (or perhaps not so surprisingly) empty. On the other hand, if the furniture had been on the floor ... Skiaza stays very close to the ceiling.
"Sir Brennan?" Dignity pipes up as they explore the last room on the floor. "Who do you think set this up? And why?" He gestures in a way that could encompass the whole tower as well as the room they're in and the bizarre floor.
"Weyland," says Brennan. He's already thought about it. "When I came here first, there was a door at ground level leading in. When I knocked on it, the door grew a mouth, and spoke to us in Weyland's voice," he says carefully, "and when it opened, it opened into the room just... above..." he gestures at their feet, "that we found ransacked. This was the ground level that Lorcan told us was a solid slab of granite. He's a Sorcerer, Dignity, and a pretty good one. All this re-arranging of space, the upside down, the floor, the windows and doors that appear and disappear, or only show on one side of where they should be, all of that, I'm sure, is Weyland, even though I've seen others who could do the same.
"Now, why? I can't say for certain, because I didn't do it. But everything above us looks like parts of his Tower that he intended outsiders to see. Deirdre, or Signy, or both, and possibly other guests, stayed on the first few levels at the top. Storerooms and a meeting room below that-- that's what he used the ransacked area for, a meeting with Dame Lilly, Sir Marius, and Signy and I. I think everything past this is the area he intended no one to see but himself. None of this would have stopped Deirdre or Signy for long, and it won't stop us. But it probably would have stopped them long enough for Weyland to come in person.
"Except Weyland doesn't seem to be home any more. That's the worrisome little mystery."
Dignity frowns. "Why would he take all this down if he left, though?"
"Good question," Brennan says. "I don't know for certain, but I don't think he would, unless he knew he wasn't going to come back. This all has the feel to me of Weyland leaving in a hurry. I can invent any number of scenarios: He could have been chased out. He could have been kidnapped. He could be looking for his daughter He could be on vacation," Brennan finishes, somewhat facetiously. "Remember, I left here for a day or two to go back to Amber, and I'm still not sure how many years passed here."
Brennan busies himself for a few moments finding a thin length of metal, about as long as his arm. Thin enough to bend with some effort, rigid enough to hold its shape.
"I don't really think he's on vacation," he continues, once he's got the metal. "I think he left in a hurry, probably not planned in advance." He takes the metal in hand, and heaves, bending it into a broad U, bracing against his metal shin-guard if needed. "But I'm not getting too attached to the details until I have more evidence.
"Now, though, I want to see something." Brennan holds the U-shaped metal at one end, over his head, and slowly extends the curved part through the floor below them. If this works the way Brennan thinks, he and Dignity will see the end in his hand, and the other end protruding through the floor, but the middle section will be on the other side.
If that works, he'll hold that position for a moment, then pull back slightly, and expect the other end to fall through at that moment.
The experiment works exactly as Brennan expects.
Dignity watches the experiment. "What did you prove by that?"
Brennan gives a lopsided grin. "I proved that the material isn't being destroyed when it touches the floor, like I first thought. If that were true, the thing would have come apart and the other end fallen through as soon as the bend touched the floor. What's really going on, as far as I can tell, is that it's a one-way gate-- the iron only came apart when I tried to pull it back."
The grin melts into a scowl. "Makes me wonder if it was meant to keep something in, despite what I said before. But for the moment, next step is to see if we can find out how much depth there is on the other side of it."
So saying, Brennan roots around in his pack until he finds some metal spikes, and takes one out. With a few deft taps of the hammer, he drives it into the ceiling, and ties a rope around it, giving it a few serious tugs to make sure it's secure. Secure enough to hold a man's weight, if need be... but not just yet. When he's got it in secure, he ties the other end to something weighty. Another grappling hook would do, but anything heavy enough that Brennan and Dignity can see and feel when it hits bottom, by the slack in the line.
Then he lets Dignity play the line out, slowly. Dignity probably needs the tactile as well as the visual to really convince himself what's going on, here. For whatever it's worth, Brennan listens for the weight to hit the floor on the other side, too, but he suspects that the Sorceries involved have the incidental effect of preventing sound from traveling as well.
Dignity repeats the experiment that Brennan had already performed. The rope seems to go on and on and on to full extension. Finally, Dignity says, "I can't lower it any more. There's no way it's that deep, is there? That's magic."
He doesn't start to pull the line in until Brennan tells him to.
"That's... not what I expected, anyway," he says. "I was thinking it would go through this supposed first layer of solid granite, if that's what Lorcan really saw, and hit a basement floor below that. Twenty, thirty feet maybe. Not that."
Brennan sucks on his teeth for a long moment. Not quite out of ideas, there are too many explanations he can think of for that behaviour, and none hit the magic combination of testable, explainable to Dignity, and not obviously Sorcerous even to Dignity's untrained eye. It might be that none of them even meet two of those criteria. Brennan is sure he could deal with whatever is on the other side for himself, but Dignity is a different matter.
"All right, the direct approach," he says. If the floor is close enough, Brennan will reach out and very gingerly brush it with his fingertip. If not, he'll find something stable to stand on, or just pound a spike or two into the wall next to the one on the floor, and stand on that, like a ladder.
He's not looking to lose a fingertip, here. But there's clearly an exception on the gravity sorcery here, so it affects only him and Dignity, not their gear. It's possible, although not really comforting, that there might be an exception, here. He wears a glove while he does this, not for protection, but as a gauge to help understand what's going on, here.
Brennan drives spikes into the wall, not without difficulty, and gets into position. He brushes a gloved fingertip through the illusory ceiling. There's nothing there, no obvious change of temperature or pressure, no way to tell that he may just have lost part of his finger. When he pulls it back, though, there's a sense of something trying to suck his hand further through, but not strong enough that he can't overcome it, and a feeling of terrible cold.
It reminds him vaguely of something, another sorcery Brennan has seen, perhaps something Bleys or Fiona did in his presence.
When Brennan pulls his hand back against the resistance and the cold, the tip of his finger (a little skin, down past the top layer and into a bit of raw bloody meat--but nothing he can't grow back) and the associated bit of glove are gone. And OH MY GOD THAT HURTS LIKE A MOFO.
Dignity has first aid gear ready.
"Do not try that," Brennan says, around clenched teeth, "unless you're ready to go all the way through, in one smooth motion. It's fine until you pull back, at which point it tries to pull you through. And it's cold."
He lets Dignity put a bandage on the finger, as long as it's small and supple enough that it won't interfere using it in a fight. "It's survivable on the other side-- but I still don't entirely like the leap of faith approach, here. All right, Dignity, Skiaza and I need to have a long chat. Keep alert."
Brennan folds himself into a sitting position on the ceiling and calls Skiaza to him, and bows his head. They do need to have a chat. Pity Brennan doesn't know how to accomplish that with any great effectiveness. What Brennan does instead is project himself, astrally, completely outside his body. It's been a while since he's done this, but it's an old, old trick-- it takes a few moments to achieve the separation only because he takes particular care to strengthen his astral form against the environment.
It works. Brennan believes he could hold it for quite a long time like this. However, it is more difficult the further he gets from his body.
When he does so, he takes a look around, interested in Skiaza's appearance, here. "Can you hear me, Skiaza? Stay there." He glances back at himself and Dignity as well.
Skiaza has no form here.
Brennan raises an astral eyebrow at this, then considers: Apparently, Skiaza isn't alive in the sense he thought it was. His guess is that this relates not to life, precisely, but to free will and volition, which is both a comforting and disquieting thought.
Then, cautious, he repeats the same experiment, brushing an astral fingertip (different finger) against the floor, seeing if he can draw back a spirit finger unharmed.
There's no pain, but the finger that comes back seems slightly shorter. Brennan also feels as if he's in two places at once. Perhaps if he put more of his astral self in, he'd be able to learn more.
Brennan scowls to himself. He's already in two places-- adding a third seems somehow gauche. He's taken the precautions he can against the environment, so: Through the floor.
Brennan sees two things.
When he glances back at the barrier, he sees that it's made of stars. There's a wind that might well suck his physical body back through it were it on this side of the barrier. Or perhaps not, because the other thing that's with him has both physicality and a sense of astral presence, just as a person would.
Unlike a person, it's astrally aware.
"Oh, hello," says the Eater.
"You're not Weyland," Brennan says.
He also scrutinizes both Eater and the rest of his environment while waiting for its response.
What can he tell about where they are? Inside? Outside? Other objects or creatures? Is it plausible that he's just below where he used to be, or did he jaunt across locations, as well? (If nothing else, the strength of his astral body should give him a clue on that.)
They appear to be in a large room the size of the Tower. Brennan might guess this is a basement level, so probably he didn't go very far when he went through the barrier, if anywhere. He and the Eater appear to be alone in the room. There are no immediately obvious doors, stairwells, or other entrances or exits.
[Brennan and Dignity left a rope and a grappling hook attached to the ceiling beyond the portal. Any evidence of that remaining? I believe it still had the sense of there being mass attached to it when Dignity dropped it, implying that it still existed... somewhere. Although maybe not here.]
[No grappling hook or rope is present in this room. Maybe Eater ate them.]
And what about Eater? Brennan has never seen it before, much less in Astral form. He leaves his perceptions in the Astral plane.
Astrally, it's like a Chaosian, which is to say it makes his head hurt a little to look at it. He recognizes some of what used to be Cloudeater in it, mixed with, well, other things. He has no obvious indicators that it ate Weyland.
"Nor are you Weyland," Eater observes. "We are trapped here. I am very hungry. You may choose between freeing me and being eaten." He seems relatively unconcerned about which Brennan chooses.
Brennan gives a low, Bleysing chuckle. "You'd break your teeth. How long have you been trapped? What have you tried to escape?"
"I am trapped and hungry. There is no escape save through that." Eater gestures at the star field.
It may occur to Brennan about now that Chaosi have a bit of trouble with linear time.
[Well it's not like it hasn't had long enough to get used to it, sitting there being bored.]
"Eating your way isn't an option, I suppose," Brennan remarks. "What's wrong with taking that way out?" he asks, gesturing to the star field.
While he's waiting for Eater's answer, or more likely non-answer, he makes a closer examination of the walls, or floor, or any part of their container that isn't the star field. He's heard reports of Eater vanishing or merging into stone-- does it look like Eater is a fully self-contained entity, right now, or is it merged partway with the structure?
Eater is not merged with the structure. Basically it appears to be all stone except for the part where the ceiling is all stars.
Part of his examination of the walls involves physically, or at least astrally, probing them, seeing if they'll allow his Astral form to pass or if he's trapped along with Eater.
They're an Astral barrier. In fact, it looks like it keeps Eater in place. Whoever built this was very good at what he or she did.
This is a trick Brennan is certainly going to have to learn, and now seems like a good time to start the research phase: Does this seem to be a barrier made out of Astral Stuff, or just something that rejects an Astral presence? More to the point, if it's not made of Astral Stuff, does such a thing seem possible?
As near as Brennan can tell without intense study, it was a real barrier that was either made Astral or somehow the part of it in the real world was made invisible and intangible.
Brennan is not foolish enough to turn his astral back on Eater during any part of this process.
Brennan is wise.
Eater says, "It will disperse you. You will not be eaten. You will be scattered into many bites, in so many ways you will not be enough to be sentient any longer."
Brennan glances at the starfield again, and stores that detail in his head for use at a time and place of his choosing. "I see." A thought occurs to him, and he asks, "Can you leave your body, like this?"
He continues to guardedly examine the Astral barrier while Eater responds.
There is a faint breeze blowing into the barrier, and a smell like summer rain.
Eater says, "Like that? Oh. No. Were I to separate, I would be two Eaters. Or more. It was a thing I have known since before I am Cloudeater. If you are an especially difficult meal, I will consider being that again."
"Oh," says Brennan, sounding faintly disappointed. "I see." He continues to study the stellar field, again without really taking his attention off the Eater. Does that stellar dispersal field have the sense of Entropy about it? That is how Brennan would construct such a thing, that is how he would defend against it, and that's the other side of the field that he and Dignity had been looking at before.
It might be Entropy, or it might be Space into a shadow that includes such conditions. Or a combination of the two. It's not that the barrier is resistant to his Third Eye, it's just that it's Really Bright with power.
Keeping up the conversation with Eater, he says, "I remember Cloudeater. What else are you been?" Brennan's not clowning with the language-- this is not the first time he's been annoyed at his continuing failure to find the time to learn Mabrahoring, but while he's busy distracting Eater, he might as well try to grasp some of the thought processes and grammars that a speaker might use.
"I am Hob. I am Cloudeater. I am small things. I am Eater," Eater says. "I am you, perhaps." If it had a mouth, Brennan thinks it would be licking its lips.
"You are not me," Brennan says, in the cold voice of a Lord of Amber. "Not now, not ever, not under any grammar you can muster. I find the very idea to be rude, especially when I'm looking for a way out." He goes back to notionally studying the barrier, looking to find the source of the air that comprises the breeze in the room. There should be one, because the room hasn't become a vacuum, yet. The priority is still keeping track of Eater, though.
"A man named Daeon told me once of a being called Hob. Are you that?" Brennan asks in a more conversational, but still annoyed tone.
To the extent that an Astral being has facial expressions, Eater looks unimpressed by Brennan's tough-guy Amber routine. Or maybe that's Brennan's anthropomorphizing instinct at work.
Fair enough. Brennan's not impressed with threats of being eaten, either.
At the mention of Daeon, though, Eater visibly brightens. "I am Daeon. I ate his blood."
"Really," says Brennan. "Small thing, indeed." He continues to look for the source of the extra air in the room. "I've only heard that story from Daeon's lips. But I do so love a good tale. Why not tell me the tale from his blood, while I finish this?"
Eater turns his head left and right, or perhaps he turns his body and his head doesn't move. It's hard to tell here.
"What will you give me in exchange for my tale? I am a creature of bargains, oh my cousin."
"A tale of Daeon for a tale of Daeon seems fair to me," he says. "I will tell a tale after you tell yours."
Brennan fixes the creature with a hard astral stare, looking to understand what parts of it he can. He is less interested in telling the bits that had been Hob from the bits that had been CloudEater, than he is in identifying the bits that had been Daeon-- where they are, how they are mixed, how they react during conversation and the tale, what function in the creature they might serve.
"Oh, yes. That will do. It was a tale in payment for trespass that caused me to meet myself in the Court of the King of the Rock People. I remember little of it from my own point of view and know it mostly from my recollection of seeing myself for the first time. I was strange, but I was sentient, and I looked tasty. I competed with myself in storytelling, wherein I bested myself several times, but forbore to take my just rewards out of courtesy towards myself, since I knew I was a stranger and thus should be allowed the greatest tolerance.
"Eventually I grew desperate and asked my fair companion to stab me, quite a reversal of my desires, but times and measures were what they were. I bled across the field and then I left myself to my own devices.
"I was confused, but I had left my blood, which I ate, so as to preserve and learn from myself. I was tasty and quite complex. I am not sure I have completely digested myself yet."
"Tell me a tale of myself. I have such small but powerful recollections of the before time." Eater seems actually interested in the tale. He hardly seems hungry at all.
[Still interested in the results of examining Eater, trying to locate Daeon's blood within it. It's quite important to Brennan.]
[He's like a kaleidoscope! There's no piece that can be pointed at which lets you say "that's a Daeon bit"]
Brennan considers this in silence for a moment, then says, "Your tale was confused and confusing... but yes, I thought it might have been something like that. Blood for freedom, blood for binding. I doubt you ever understood the nature of your blood. Daeon never had much understanding of his family, its blood, or its various curses. Even when I met him after the war... but you will think I am stalling.
"Very well. I shall begin." And so Brennan begins, using his best story-telling voice, even in this Astral place, to tell a story of bravery, of sacrifice, of blood and freedom and bondage. He continues to examine Eater to its core with his Astral senses.
Eater is like a fireworks display, Astrally. He is a flash of pure white followed by darkness.
"In this story, a piece of Daeon-- the largest piece-- is called Adonis. You will remember that name, I know. It was a name he wore on every side of your story, the before and the after and all the others. In the time of this story, your story is already in Daeon's memory, and Daeon is on another track through thought and deed, gone to a place called Amber, Castle of the Mountain, City of the Sea. He went there to see to the safety of other, smaller pieces of himself. There were five more of him there, five fragments, all named for pieces the Forest against which Amber stood guard forever.
"On that day of Adonis' return to Amber, that which I call the Beast of the Forest had stirred and stretched forth its power from the dark heart of the woods, and a terrible power it was: Tendrils of power and intent, dominating those they touched. This was not simple affination, this was something... something old, more brutal. Something acrid and offensive. On that day of Adonis' return to Amber, he found that the Beast had already enslaved all five of the pieces of himself. A battle raged, with Adonis and three of his cousins against those five other pieces of himself, all used," Brennan flexes his Astral fingers into curving claws, "as the talons of the Beast.
"Adonis knew that even if he and his cousins won that battle, it would be at the price of destroying those five others of himself, and that he could not allow, nor allow them to be taken away. You will remember the strange affinity which Daeon had for pieces of himself... that affinity was very strong with Adonis. And so he grappled with the Beast itself, grappled with those talons of power from the Forest. They thought the battle lost, then, those cousins of Adonis that had stood and fought beside him, for they saw that in grappling with the Beast, he had allowed the Beast to grapple with him, an embrace from which they knew no escape.
"Even then, I do not know that Adonis understood the nature of his blood. Perhaps Adonis acted on instinct... or perhaps this is what we called it when another of his names whispered silently to Adonis across the separation of their souls, for Daeon was large, and contained multitudes. Perhaps it doesn't matter, and all that matters is what happened next. Grappling and grappled, caught fast in the grip of the Beast, he gave his blood and its curse to the Beast.
"His blood burned, and boiled, in a swift, bright flare of power and the rage of tricked Beast. The cries of the Beast are still said to echo in that place of Amber, where none now tread. But when the fires died down, the small pieces of Adonis were freed of the Beast, as was Adonis himself, and the Beast bound once again in the great dark Forest...."
Brennan gives a rueful grin. "At heart, while Daeon has had many names, been many people, and done many things, his is always the same story-- a gift of blood transferring captivity into deliverance, and freedom into..." Brennan trails off for a moment, then looks alarmed. "But wait, that would mean--" and he clamps his mouth shut with an astral click of his spectral molars, and says no more.
"Oh. So I am the last of me? I need to absorb you to repossess those memories. Thank you for the tale."
Eater begins moving towards Brennan's astral body at a deliberate pace. The room is small enough that it will be hard to avoid contact.
Brennan's Astral expression turns to one of contempt-- too stupid to be curious, too stupid to be tricked. Rather than try to backpedal and play for time, Brennan seizes the initiative, kicking against the astral barrier of the wall and launching himself forward, adding in the natural force of motion he can summon up in this form. The trajectory rockets him forward and just to the side of Eater, but close enough that he can stretch out with an arm.
At the same time, he performs a brief, furious working of the Astral principle. Typically, creatures with Astral and Physical presences find those to be linked together. Brennan leaves his body behind by breaking that rule for himself, and now, he breaks it for Eater. As he passes, he lashes out, grabs Eater's Astral body and rips it out of the Physical one. If he did that to a normal thing from this side of the Tree, he'd expect the physical body to drop like a marionette with burned strings. Based on what Eater said, though, if Brennan gets the Astral part free, he expects he'll just have two creatures. Two dazed and agonized creatures, but two separate things trying to readjust to their new and separate conditions, which would suit Brennan just fine.
If he can't get the whole Astral body, he'll settle for tearing off a big, raggedy chunk.
Brennan finds himself against the wall, holding what seems to be a meter-long astral dragon that is in the process of splitting into dozens of tiny wyverns. Holding it is a chore, and Brennan feels as if the very contact is sapping him of energy.
"Oh. I want those back," he says. "They are me." He's turned around and is again moving towards Brennan.
Somewhere deep in the analytical region of Brennan's mind, he registers the fact that he was wrong. You *can* get back something roughly similar to what you put in. In appearance, anyway. But this fact is not immediately useful. Not on the scale of the next three seconds, anyway. So, since the wyverns-becoming are draining him of energy, Brennan sweeps his arm overhead, hurling them into the space above them. In Brennan's ideal universe, some will be thrown into the stellar field above, and dispersed, while others will careen chaotically about the region.
Brennan's astral arm sweeps through them and they smear like so many plumes of multi-colored smoke. Some trail back towards the Eater, others seem to be avoiding both Brennan and their other self.
Not optimal, but not pessimal, either. It might not be enough to matter, yet, but the rule that isn't changing is this: If Eater is losing material, he must be losing power.
Brennan follows that with another furious, instant Working, this one of multiple effects all to a single purpose: Brennan solidifies an axe-hammer shaped slice of the air in the room, and astrally extends it not only so that it can more effectively deal with Eater and the wyverns-becoming, but also so that Brennan in his Astral form can wield it directly. Because it is a familiar effect to him, Brennan adds the momentum enhancement that he had Worked for Dignity and himself, previously.
Weapon in hand, Brennan springs to the attack, with mobility and confusion as his allies. The weapon isn't designed to last long, but hopefully it will last long enough to continue breaking Eater into smaller pieces, the hammer side for Eater's body and the axe for its spirit.
Brennan swings the axe-hammer at Eater's body and strikes true, hitting the combination creature a jarring blow. Brennan notes that it is noiseless, although that may be a factor of being astral in the presence of a physical event.
There are a few rock chips off the Eater, but it steps on them and they are gone, perhaps absorbed into the rock creature's body.
And now Brennan has at least a rough idea of how much Sorcerous power is required to have a meaningful effect.
It goes into some sort of fighting crouch, which is interesting considering that it doesn't have jointed legs as such. It seems to be waiting for Brennan's next move. From here, Brennan can see into its mouth, which seems to be merely for show, as it has neither teeth, tongue, nor throat.
Since Eater is willing to cede the initiative again, Brennan glides forward in a continuation of his original motion, as though he'd planned it like this from the start using the hammer to extend his reach as well as his force.
He aims another massive hammerstrike at the thing from the side and behind... but this one is coupled with another sharp, instant burst of Sorcery. This is a working of Entropy, corrupting and weakening the material of Eater's corporeal form, loosening its hold on itself. The effect is momentary, and something Eater would surely be able to undo, but for the hammerblow aiming to knock a big piece off.
Brennan lines up for his blow and begins his spell when he feels a familiar stirring in his mind.
Brennan finds himself fighting to keep from losing his astral cohesiveness and his weapon as well. The new spell is spoiled and the blow, intending to split the Eater, is not strong enough to damage him.
Brennan's last thought, as his vision swims and he doesn't quite get killed, is, "I really hate those things."
Worse still, Eater has grabbed the axehammer by the head and is in the process of stuffing it into his mouth.
When the Trump wave passes, and Brennan has attention to spare for something other than vanishing in a puff of Astral smoke, he sees Eater... eating... and backpedals a bit. Filled with a cold anger, he does just about the worst thing he can think of doing to Eater. If Eater is trying to eat his hammer, it must, at some level, be trying to absorb the hammer's energy and mass into itself, which is a process with an Entropic description. With a savage gesture as though he's stabbing someone in the gut and twisting, Brennan works Time and especially Entropy to reverse that entropic flow-- the harder Eater tries to digest the hammer, the harder it tries to transfer energy in either direction, the more energy will flow out of it.
Let Eater turn its strength against itself.
Eater screams and tosses his head, breaking Brennan's grip on the hammer. He spits it out and it flies in a flat arc at the edge of the cage.
It hits the opening between something and nothing as if it had flown into a glass wall and it rings like a bell.
Eater says "Oh, that is interesting."
Brennan reaches out with a minor working of Gravity, and takes the hammer in its grip. He moves his Astral self to one side of the Eater, and moves the hammer to the opposite side, but both about as far away as they can get.
Eater does something and it's as if he's falling sideways towards the corner where the axe-hammer is. He falls faster than the axe did, but it did not have as far to go. It takes the Eater almost no time at all to regain his feet and look up at Brennan.
Since Brennan's astral form is not affected by Gravity, it seems to him as if Eater is standing on a wall. "Thank you," it says.
Brennan is not impressed with the parlor trick, the moreso since Gravity is one of his arts. Moreover, he's really not inclined to just let Eater have the hammer. If it's got the thing in it's rough little paw, Brennan dispells the hammer. It is his construct, after all, and it was only designed to last for a minute, which is probably close to over.
If it doesn't have it, yet, Brennan yanks it away with a stronger application of Gravity than his previous manipulation, toward another corner of the room. If Eater follows it, or moves again, there is a thing Brennan intends to try while it is in motion.
Can Brennan judge how strong the thing is in the art, since he was watching it the whole time? Or at least, how strong the effect is?
It was personal and stronger than mere gravity. It was akin to the opposite of a flying spell.
Eater looks up at Brennan. "You should bring that back. We need it if we are ever to leave this place. I will not eat you if you give me back the hitting thing."
For the first time since the fight began (call this the end of round one, Brennan muses to himself) Brennan deigns to speak to the Eater.
"You're not going to eat me, ever," Brennan says, "and your table manners leave much to be desired. You've offered me nothing that I do not already have." Then he smiles, showing teeth, and his Astral eyes glint in some non-existent light. "But I am a creature of bargains. Make a meaningful offer."
"Oh. Very well. Let us bargain. Let the bargain be a truce while we each escape this place. If it takes us both to escape, then you will need to bargain with me. You do not need food, but if you wish to make yourself recongruent with your other self, you will need to do so before I am reduced to dust.
"Can you free yourself from here, Sorcerer?"
"It was my 'hitting thing' in the first place, Eater," Brennan explains patiently. "You want something from me, and you have less leverage in this round of bargaining than you think. But I am not unreasonable. Daeon gave his blood to you in exchange for passage. I will help you pass in exchange for that blood. All of it."
"Oh. Yes, I can do that. Do we have a bargain?"
Hopefully Brennan's poker face, and Eater's non-instinctual unfamiliarity with the fine nuances of human expression, are sufficient to mask Brennan's surprise-- he'd thought Daeon's blood would have been particularly precious for its lineage.
"Yes. Bide, and I'll create the hammer, and a vessel. Then you fill the vessel. Then we proceed."
If Eater agrees to that, and does not interfere, here is what Brennan does.
First, he will recreate the axe-hammer, but since he is not in a stressful, combat situation, he will make it better. He will work the same three spells, in the same order: To begin, a solidification of a hitting-thing-shaped volume of air. Continuing, he will add the Astral extension so he can grip it and so that it will be potent against Astral things such as pieces of Eater, and Astral barriers. Finally, the enhancement of momentum which he really doesn't think is necessary. The original working had done all these at once, and in an instant, and was meant to last only a brief minute or so. Since Eater isn't trying to eat him just now, Brennan will take advantage of this to perform these properly, separately, and take a minute for each one, and make it last longer. Since Brennan is not a fool, he fashions the implement in his own hands, and makes absolutely certain that he can dispell it quickly should the need arise.
Second, when that is done, Brennan will use a variation of the air solidification to create a vessel for Daeon's blood-- knowing Daeon's proclivity for shedding his own blood, Brennan errs on the size of volume, making it the size of a reasonable cask or barrel. There's little fancy about it, except that it's got a handle, just in case.
When done, Brennan gestures at the airy container. "In there, if you will." Brennan watches the process closely, not only because he is fascinated in a horrible way, but also because he wants to at least try to make sure Eater isn't holding back or adding anything extra.
[spell failure would be boring, so we're not even drawing...]
"Oh. We are ready. Give us room, please."
Eater steps down hard on the wall, which is still his floor, and lifts his other leg. He begins to spin in place, like a dreydl made of stone, albeit one that could kill most men. He spins faster and faster, his arms becoming a blur.
"This is interesting! " he says, sounding oddly like Daeon or perhaps Jovian. "I have not given birth before and it is a challenge to spawn just certain pieces of myself, especially when I also need to keep them small enough not to be sentient. I do not wish them to take more than we have bargained for."
A moment later, a tiny wyvern-form breaks off from Eater and flies towards the barrel. It drops something from its claws into it and returns to Eater and lands in his open mouth. Another follows and soon there is a stream of them. This goes on for at least a quarter of a watch.
Brennan watches this quietly, but intently, and tries very very hard not to think of Grandmother. Or Grandfather. Or anyone else ever again.
When the last one returns to Eater's innards, he stops spinning. "I have finished. Let us break free of this place now." He seems less human but more articulate.
When it's finished, Brennan moves over to the constructed barrel and inspects the result thoroughly and Astrally, looking for any signs of error or foul play. Once Brennan satisfies himself, he makes a last modification that Working, closing the top of it over and sealing it tight. Then he straightens, and addresses the remainder.
"All right, let's do this. What do I call you, now?"
"Hmm. Oh, yes. I suppose, as my former bloodbrother, a name is appropriate. You may call me by mine, which is Robin Goodfellow."
Brennan looks back with a raised eyebrow, but does not comment. Does it still look like Eater, or is it greatly changed in appearance?
It looks less like CloudEater and more like the rock creature you first fought outside the tower.
While the remainder answers, Brennan lets his Astral form drift to the barrier that had rung out before. Bearing in mind that the hammer he's constructed is a good deal more potent than the one he'd made before, he gives the barrier an experimental tap with the hammer end of it.
It meets no resistance and the tapping part seems to have been shaved off cleanly.
"Unsurprising. Disappointing, but unsurprising. On this side of the tree, I expect the same actions to yield the same results. Which means," Brennan says, "you're going to have to try to eat this, and I'm going to have to stop you again. Are you willing to try?"
"Yes. It is what we agreed to."
Brennan bids it to bide while he prepares the spell. He will take a minute to build a spell similar to the previous one, then holds out the hammer for the Goodfellow, but keep a firm grip on it. His intent is to reverse the digestion as he had done before, then tap the barrier again.
"You should let me hit it, because that is what happened before. I can throw it very hard."
"So can I," Brennan says, but after a moment of calculation, he acquiesces. The outline of his plan remains the same: the amped up hammer has already been made, and he follows it with an amped up entropic indigestion spell. If that causes the Goodfellow more pain, well, such is the price of science and freedom.
"Don't throw it through me," he says.
"Oh. Yes, that would probably be ineffective, if your form stopped it."
Brennan remains wary and alert through this process. Depending n the results and the Goodfellow's reactions afterwards, Brennan is ready to variously defend himself, snatch the hammer toward him, or bolt for freedom if there seems to be an opportunity.
Hobgoblin screams as Brennan hits him with his spell, but holds on to the axehammer. He spins in place, just as he did when producing Daeon's blood. With a final scream, he throws the axehammer at the barrier, and follows immediately behind it. He seems to have made a slight working of gravity to help himself and the axehammer.
If this fails, he's only got the axehammer between himself and annihilation.
The axehammer hits the barrier with a deafening ring of shattering glass and things change. Brennan is still astrally "above" the no-longer-barring barrier, and pieces of it fall like a rain of threads of fire on the room "below". Through the hole in the barrier, Brennan sees Dignity, his body, and Eater, all lying near each other on the "floor" which used to be the ceiling (for Brennan and Dignity). There might have been some shouting in the mess, but Brennan was still reeling from the shattering noise.
Through the non-broken parts of the barrier, the void is still visible. It reminds Brennan of the edge of reality from the place where Caine slew Brand.
Dignity hasn't moved yet.
Brennan bolts for the opening and his own body. He makes a quick working of Gravity to bring Daeon's blood with him. Both are as quick as he can possibly manage, both because he does not know how long that hole will last, and because he does not trust the Goodfellow with Dignity or Skiaza.
If he makes it back to his body, he is on his feet as quickly as he can manage.
Brennan makes it back to his body, and looks up to see the hole still above him. Robin Goodfellow is sinking into the stone of the tower and Dignity still hasn't moved.
From below, Brennan hears a voice call out. "Who's there?! Show yourself!" The voice is of a young man, and the Thari is perfectly passable.
Brennan is not a fool. The only person that could possibly be is Garrett-- and Brennan's surprised it took him this long to poke his way into the Tower to begin with. He calls out, "Garrett!! No Pattern!!" trusting the Prince to recognize the voice, the tone... and come investigating.
Turning back to the Goodfellow, he growls in a lower voice, "And where do you think you're going, now?" He'd heard about the Eater pulling a similar stunt in this very location, so he's not only not surprised by the activity, he's already got something in mind. He performs a quick working on the stone immediately surrounding the Goodfellow, controlling the properties of the matter in two closely related ways.
The first is a direct control of the Phase of the Matter of the stone. If Brennan were to decide he needed to sink into and through a slab of stone, his own choice would be to turn the stone fluid and slip through it... so here, to prevent that, Brennan reinforces the solidity and rigidity of the stone so that nothing can move through it. The second is a little more esoteric, but equally useful. The Goodfellow is made of stone, and might be diffusing itself into the similar material below it. Solids shouldn't do that, but the Goodfellow has a cloudy heritage, so Brennan closes that avenue of escape by adding an Entropic twist to the working, as entropy governs the process of diffusion and dissolving. This is one method Brennan would use to keep a cloud stable, coherent, and motionless. Those effects are mutually reinforcing, as their sole purpose is to prevent the motion of any physical object through the stone.
In the best of all possible worlds, the Goodfellow will be stuck half in, half out of the stone. But Brennan will settle for halting its retreat and escape.
If Brennan halted his escape, he can't tell. The Goodfellow is not visible, but he may be trapped in the stone that Brennan has ensorcelled.
That would be close to ideal.
If Dignity is still not moving, he'll have to wait. Where is the axehammer that Brennan made out of air?
It's right next to Brennan. It's stuck in a shard of the stuff that fell from the ceiling.
Well, that's interesting. But not threatening.
There's a thumping on the stairs to the right.
Probably Garrett, Brennan thinks, given the gravity in this place. "Follow my voice, and mind the gravity," he calls out.
At the time time, he puts his vision back on the astral plane, looking around for some trace of the Goodfellow, or its passage. He starts by looking where he last saw the Goodfellow sinking into the stone-- hopefully the stone itself has no Astral presence and with effort he'll be able to see through it to the Goodfellow's own Astral presence.
Usually, buildings don't exist, and while this one is blocked from scrying from without, it isn't blocked from scrying from within. Brennan can clearly see where the Puck was. He obviously parted the veil and went through it in that rapidly closing gash in space-time. The other side looks brighter, to Brennan's third eye.
[Is it in the stone, or beyond it? I don't think it properly matters for the immediate action to follow, but it might be important soon.]
It's not that easy, my puckish little friend, Brennan thinks to himself. He reaches out to make an instant working of Time directly on the parted Veil, freezing the time around it and trying to keep it open.
Brennan thinks he got it. There's a sphere of timelessness inside the rock (the sphere is opaque to the third eye). Releasing that spell and not losing the gate may be tricky.
Whether that worked or not, Brennan can then take the time to look around, although if the Veil is still parted, his eyes keep darting back to it to make sure nothing escapes. What is the status of Skiaza and Dignity?
Skiaza may be hiding somewhere. Dignity is out cold. Brennan doesn't have time to determine in more detail.
At least half the thumping stops. If Brennan chooses to look that way, he'll see Red Fox Claws/Dagobert in a doorway. He seems much older than he was when Brennan was last here.
When Red Fox Claws appears, Brennan squints, and says, "We've met, haven't we? You wouldn't happen to know where Weyland's gone, would you?" Is he standing on the same surface Brennan is?
He is standing on the same surface that Brennan and Dignity are lying on [OOC: I don't recall Brennan getting up, but correct me if I'm wrong]
[I specified him as getting to his feet as soon as he was able, on Aug 11. I don't think it matters, but I'll describe what I thought his pose was, to set the scene for Garrett.]
Although there's not a mark on him, Brennan is in what Garrett and Red Fox Claws both would recognize as a battle-ready posture-- feet apart, knees flexed, and in his right hand he's got a short grip on an axe-hammer like he could whallop something with it at any moment.
Garrett might notice that Brennan's injunction against the Pattern applies to him, as well-- his hair is mussed and his clothes are a bit ruffled. He hasn't been reflexively conjuring things to a favorable appearance, or it hasn't been working.
Red Fox Claws takes in a breath to begin to speak, but is interrupted by Garrett's arrival.
Arriving immediately behind Red Fox Claws is Garrett, sword at the ready. He glances around the room at the top of the stairs, trying to determine what caused all the commotion. The young prince is dressed in what Brennan recognizes as Dignity's clothing.
Brennan nods at Garrett, but does not address him: It's not clear if he's Prince Garrett, here, or just Garrett.
The floor is littered with furniture and debris that used to be furniture. It looks as if someone has tossed everything in the room in the air and let it land like jackstraws.
Red Fox Claws says "The Smith disappeared more than three score years ago. I am not privy to the comings and goings of the Lords of the Towers. Are you a Wizard or a warrior?" He looks Brennan up and down, apparently unsure.
"Hero to the Dvarts," Brennan says. "I've just evicted a creature called Eater that had taken up residence. I'd thought to give chase, but..." he gestures at Dignity. And there's one more thing to worry about before making that decision: Where is Daeon's blood? Specifically, the Goodfellow didn't manage to swipe it before it left, did it?
The blood is about where it fell, in its air-tight container of air. It looks like a dark red barrel on its side. No one else has paid it any attention.
Not seeing any enemy in the immediate vicinity, Garrett trots over to check on Dignity. Laying his sword down where he can retrieve it quickly if necessary, he kneels beside the unconscious squire and checks to see if he's breathing. "How long have you been here, Sir Brennan?" the young prince asks.
Dignity is breathing. He still hasn't moved.
"Long enough to see you borrow Dignity's horse, from a window a few floors up," Brennan says, distractedly. "Beyond that, a few days. Long enough to get some local history from the Dvarts."
He looks around the room again, obviously looking for something in particular, scowling when he doesn't find it. "Skiaza! Come out here!" He shifts his attention into the Astral plane, in case Skiaza has acquired such a presence since the last time he saw it, and glances over at Dignity as well to see if something is obviously afflicting him in that sense.
A shadow slides from beneath Dignity, but doesn't move further.
Garrett grunts in acknowledgement, his attention torn between trying to determine what's wrong with Dignity and looking around to see if he can see what or where the skiaza might be.
It's hard to tell what happened to him. Maybe he fell, maybe some furniture fell on him. He looks like he's been thrown from a horse. Maybe he needs some cold water tossed in his face.
When Skiaza slithers out from underneath Dignity, Brennan scowls. "Skiaza," he says. The somewhat chilly, neutral tone might be lost on Skiaza, but probably not on Garrett or Red Fox Claws. "What happened, here, Skiaza." Brennan concentrates on trying to understand whatever cryptic answer Skiaza may offer up, and lets Garrett (hopefully) concentrate on reviving Dignity.
Brennan does not try to maintain the sphere of frozen time around the Parted Veil, when it expires. He'll just let that, and the veil, fade out in sequence, since it seems unlikely that he'll be dashing after the Goodfellow.
Garrett's eyes widen at the sight of a shadow moving on its own, but since Brennan seems to be taking charge of that situation, he turns his attention to Dignity. He taps his fingers against the squire's cheek, calling out to him softly, "Dignity! Hey! Dignity." He gently turns Dignity's head to the side as well to check for signs of blood or obvious bumps.
Dignity awakes with a start. Brennan and Garrett both suspect that, had he had the strength for it, he would've hit Garrett.
Skiaza leaps to the ceiling and falls to the floor.
[Not entirely sure how to visualize that, probably because I've also lost track of what we're referring to as "floor" and "ceiling." Floor is the surface all the humans are on? So Skiaza leaps away and then falls back?]
[Yup to both questions.]
"Skiaza," Brennan calls again. "Come here." He stands in a position so that his own shadow will block the exit of the stairway, and holds out an arm so that the shadow of it forms a perch for Skiaza. "Come here, Skiaza."
If Skiaza tries to flee, though, Brennan is ready.
The shadow slides into Brennan's and then slides up the Sorcerer-Prince to settle on his arm.
Garrett leans back and rises fluidly, getting well out of the way of the angered squire. He retrieves his sword, but does not sheath it quite yet. "What happened?" he asks Dignity.
"It turned over." says Dignity.
Brennan looks briefly at Dignity, then back at Skiaza. "It turned over," he repeats, more to Skiaza than to anyone else in the room. "It turned over." He makes a motion to Garrett and Red Fox Claws with his free hand, to see if they can get Dignity up and walking. It looks like Brennan would like to get moving as soon as they're able.
Dignity nods, wincing when he moves. "When you broke the ceiling below me, 'down' just poured out of it. That's what I remember."
He then strokes Skiaza with the shadow of his gesturing hand and addresses Garrett and Red Fox Claws. "Meet Skiaza, formerly servant of Weyland."
Garrett sheaths his sword and reaches a hand down to Dignity for a hand-up off the floor. His brow furrows as he tries to make out what exactly Brennan is introducing him to. "Pleasure," he says awkwardly to the... thing.
Dignity looks at Garrett's garb oddly, but lets him help him up. He's twisted his ankle and needs medical attention, but will be well enough given a day or two.
"Sounds like you and Red Fox Claws have already met," he says to Brennan, nodding in the direction of his companion. "What happened here?"
"Recently? Nothing external. Since you went in the first time? A lifetime's worth of life. My lifetime." Red Fox Claws does indeed look like an old man and not the war leader Brennan remembers.
Brennan nods, but starts his answer a little closer to the present. "RIght here? A skirmish with a Chaos thing, probably a Chaos Lord, calling itself the Eater that got... complicated. It's remains escaped, calling itself Robin Goodfellow, but is definitely less it was. In the more dstant past? Weyland lived here, and now he doesn't. The impression I've had so far is that he either left in a hurry, or unwillingly, neither of which pleases me. But I haven't seen any indications of anything specific.
"What brings you here, other than Dignity's horse?"
"That's Dignity's horse?! Oh. I didn't know. It was wandering, so I picked it up," Garrett says, with a glance back at the squire. The comment is not quite an apology.
Dignity doesn't quite respond to the not quite apology.
Brennan doesn't quite smirk at the whole exchange.
"I hooked up with Red Fox Claws here yesterday," Garrett explains, indicating the old man. "He's looking for a... Lady Signy, wasn't it? Apparently, she was last seen here decades ago"
"Yes," says Red Fox Claws. "After we had defeated the minions of the tower lord, she went into her father's tower with this man and another man and woman."
Brennan nods. "Marius and Lilly," he says. "We went from here to Amber." Then, "Dignity, are you good to walk? Red Fox Claws, can you help him?" Preferably elsewhere, out of simple earshot.
Once they're gone, he adds to Garrett, "Signy is Marius' sister. New cousin that your father has probably already met. What brings you here, anyway? You can't possibly be here looking for me."
As he listens to Garrett, he's also looking for something in the debris-- a good sturdy, but mundane container, just big enough to hold Daeon's blood, now that he knows how much of it there is. Because there's been so much Sorcery going on, Brennan takes his time with the conjuration.
[Daeon on his best day couldn't have bled much more than six quarts, I think, so unless there was major magic going on, something on the order of two or three gallons ought to be big enough with room to spare.]
[Red Fox Claws escorts Dignity downstairs to get him some water, because a good squire knows when a knight is looking for alone time.]
Brennan sends Skiaza with them, telling it to come back and find him if anything goes wrong.
Garrett's eyebrow quirks with interest at the mention of the new relative. At Brennan's question though, his expression goes grave, as if he's measuring his words.
"No. I had no idea you were here. Or where here even is, for that matter." A pause. "This was where the pattern sent me. At the end."
Brennan eyebrows raise. "Really," he says. "Sent you here? This is a place that has more of a description than a name, from what I've heard-- the Plain of Towers. This one, of course," he waves his hand to gesture at the entire structure they're in, "is-- was-- Weyland's Tower. Where was it you meant to go, then?" He continues looking about in the debris until he finds what he's after-- a small barrel, remarkably undamaged by the recent upheaval. It looks to be waterproof, and sturdy.
"I... I don't know, for certain," Garrett replies hesitantly as he watches Brennan. "I didn't know it was supposed to take you somewhere. When I finished, I was spent. I couldn't have moved another step. But I saw horses, a whole herd, running free on a wide plain. Kind of like Hannah described to me once." He shrugs. "I tried to follow, but I passed out. I woke up here."
Brennan finds his barrel, and spends a long moment inspecting it, inside and out. The moment lasts longer than is strictly necessary for Brennan to hear and understand what Garrett just told him. When he finishes, he puts it down, then faces Garrett with his arms folded across his chest.
Waiting.
"I know," Garrett responds to the silence. Clearly expecting this, he does not back down or flinch from Brennan's intensity. There is a certain hardness about his eyes and face that was not there the last time Brennan saw him.
"Circumstances changed," he states bluntly. "If the enemies of Amber or Xanadu attack again, I'm not about to sit cowering in the castle like some babe in arms. I will defend myself and my home with every resource I have available to me. No exceptions."
"What circumstances?"
"War in Arcadia, civil war in Rebma and an uncle tramping toward us with gunpowder. All noted in our last discussion as I recall," Garrett says levelly.
Brennan shakes his head, wearily. "You can put your chin back down, Garrett. I'm not particularly angry. Yet. Here's what you don't understand: Your actions change the meaning of your words. You can't give your word again, and have it take the same meaning as before. It doesn't work that way. And it isn't pettiness, or pride, or score-keeping. It's a natural act of self-preservation on the part of everyone you talk to-- you more than most, my Prince.
"Was it worth it?" Brennan asks. "Don't answer. It's rhetorical, because you just don't know, and neither do I. Talk to me about it in a few hundred years."
Brennan feels the familiar tell-tale sensation of someone trying to contact him via trump.
Before Garrett can give any response to that, Brennan's eyes start to lose focus and slide off to the side. He refocusses on Garrett for a brief moment saying, "Bide." The curl of his mouth makes it clear he is not amused with the interruption. His eyes slide back off to the side, ashe stares at someone not there.
He offers a variation on the traditional Trump greeting: "Are you who almost got me killed about a watch ago?"
Brennan listens for a moment, then exhales sharply. The blood drains from his face leaving him completely pale, in shock from whatever he just heard. He reaches out, almost as though he's going to depart by Trump without another word, but he's actually reaching out to clamp a hand on Garrett's arm and bring him into the conversation.
"What!? What happened?"
Garrett's brow furrows with concern and he steps closer to Brennan to join the conversation.
Last modified: 26 December 2008