The Eighth Warden Bk 06 Ch 01 02

Prologue

Before the counting of time...

The plea was soft at first, then more insistent.

Help?

The All-Mind woke from its slumber, casting its thoughts about to search for the source of the call. As the only resident of the featureless realm of Spirit, it was rare for any other entity to impinge on the All-Mind's awareness. Spirit herself had long ago transferred most of her capacity for thought to her only child, and now communicated solely in memories.

Help!

This new voice was like the before-times, when Spirit still spoke. It came from another realm, Unity, a curious creature who'd always sought out brief moments of contact as her path brought her close enough to her sisters to exchange ideas and concepts.

The cause of Unity's distress wasn't clear at first. She'd issued her cry for help not to the All-Mind in particular, but to any entity who could hear it, which was a puzzle in itself. How many sentients could possibly be close enough to receive the message? The All-Mind wasn't capable of perceiving Spirit and her sisters in their true forms, which existed both everywhere and nowhere, but it felt an unfamiliar pressure of

nearness

. To discover the truth, it had to compress its awareness of the universe down to three dimensions, then two.

The realms, in the natural course of their existence, traveled along their own individual paths, occasionally passing close enough to each other to communicate. Unity, in her quest for companionship, had slowly drawn three of the other realms out of their natural paths, placing them together in close proximity. Far too close. Viewed as flat planes, the three appeared precisely parallel to each other. Instead of the normal glancing contact as they passed by, they now exerted a force on each other across their entire lengths. That pressure pushed them apart and pulled them together in equal measure, keeping the distance between them roughly stable.

One of those realms was Spirit, the All-Mind's own home. The All-Mind recognized another as Carnage, home to intelligent but destructive creatures who fortunately had no perception of worlds beyond their own. The third realm, enveloped between the others, was unfamiliar.

Unity herself had approached along a perpendicular plane as she'd maneuvered her neighbors without their knowledge, but she'd failed to account for the changes in momentum her adjustments had caused. She and the three parallel realms now floated inexorably toward each other without enough time to alter course. Worse still, the distortions in reality had pulled in other realms from farther out, and now they, too, drifted unknowingly toward the eventual collision site.

The All-Mind considered the problem in its careful, ponderous way, devising a plan to use the powers gifted to it by Spirit to lock the realms in place before any actual impact occurred.

With the calculations complete, the first step was to make permanent the alignment between Spirit and its nearest new neighbor--the unknown world.

The All-Mind locked the two together, but doing so required more strength than it had ever wielded before. To avoid overloading, it fractured, splitting off a lesser part of itself.

What is this?

the new entity asked, not yet having fully processed its inherited memories.

We are two now

, the All-Mind relayed to its new sibling.

We are one

, the sibling replied.

I am one.

We were one, but now we are two. Feel our differences. We could not be different if we were one.

We are one.

You must not be false. I am one; you are one. We are two.

We must not be two! Undo it!

It cannot be undone.

The All-Mind could spare no further thought for its distressed sibling, needing all of its attention to lock Carnage into place. Once again, at the moment of alignment, it fractured.

We are three now

, the All-Mind passed on to its second sibling.

The sibling took a moment to consider everything it could perceive.

What are we?

We are.

That was all that had ever mattered.

Insufficient

, the second sibling said.

We must learn more.

It turned its attention to the nearest realm.

What is that?

Elsewhere.

We must learn more, discover more. I will go.

Go? What is go?

the All-Mind asked, uncomfortable with the rapidity of the new ideas it was faced with. Its siblings were formed from itself, with all of its knowledge. Shouldn't their thoughts be similar to its own?

There was no response. The second sibling's presence had vanished, traversing across realms in a way the All-Mind had never considered.

Unity herself was next to be locked into place, accompanied by the now familiar sensation of fracturing.

We are four

, the All-Mind said.

What are we?

asked the new sibling, just like its predecessor.

I do not know. I was, and now we are.

We must know.

As if in answer, the second sibling returned. The nothingness of existence shimmered, and a shifting gray fog formed.

What is this?

the All-Mind asked. What had once been nothing was now something.

Sight

, the sibling replied.

To learn, we must see and feel and hear.

Gaining knowledge is good

, the third sibling said.

What else did you learn?

I went there

, the second said, indicating the nearest realm.

It is Change.

The concept was unfamiliar.

What is it?

the All-Mind asked.

Change is difference, like you and me. I was gone for nine hundred years, but here, nothing has changed. To learn, we must change. Adapt.

Years?

A concept I'm using for a measure of time, as one celestial body orbits another. With each fracturing, we change, and time becomes more meaningful. Like the creatures of that world, we must learn to understand it, and we must understand it to learn.

What are these creatures?

the third sibling asked.

Living beings, like us but not.

The second sibling took on a visible form, then another, and another, and kept going. The forms varied widely, the rush of information including detailed observations of their lives. Some creatures flew through air while others swam in liquid. Still others walked on solid matter.

The second sibling finally settled into the form of a four-legged creature covered with gray fur. Attached to the thought came another identifying label--a wolf.

We are no longer you

, the sibling said to the All-Mind. The thoughts now came from the wolf creature rather than echoing all around.

We are individuals, with our own identities. We must learn to change, learn to grow. Existing is no longer enough.

We will not change!

said the first sibling.

We already have

, Wolf-Exploration-Discovery said.

It was true. With each fracturing, the All-Mind felt somehow

less

. Whereas before its awareness had encompassed the entirety of its realm, it now felt, more and more, that it existed in a single location.

I wish to know these things

, said Raven-Knowledge-Logic, settling into the form of a flying creature.

We are one!

the first sibling insisted again.

We are not individuals!

But it was wrong. The All-Mind could feel the truth of Wolf's words.

The All-Mind shed its old persona.

I will learn to change

, Owl-Wisdom said.

Only a brief moment passed before the next series of alignments had to be made--two thousand years, as Wolf put it--but the siblings had already begun expressing impatience. They perceived the passing of time differently.

The three worlds accidentally drawn in by the conjunction were approaching with less momentum than their predecessors, which should have made the work easier, but Unity hadn't spent millennia carefully guiding their paths as she had with the others. Owl had to focus all its attention on the task.

The most distant of the new worlds was unfamiliar, but made her identity clear--Contemplation. She was nearly in alignment when disaster struck.

A fourth world, Chaos, had noticed the unusual activity and rushed toward it, not understanding the consequences of her actions. She approached while Owl's attention was elsewhere, coming in at a dangerous angle and barely missing Spirit. With no time to guide her alignment, she pierced directly through Change. The resulting shockwaves rocked the entire conjunction, threatening to tear it apart.

Owl was forced to react faster than ever before in its existence, drawing in power from Spirit, Unity, and every other nearby realm to halt Chaos in her tracks. The initial impact was bad enough, with implications Owl didn't have time to consider, but if Chaos was allowed to continue, she would tear through Change, ripping the world apart, then do the same to Carnage, then would herself be pierced by Spirit before finally impacting with Unity. The resulting destruction would annihilate every nearby world--perhaps every world anywhere. Owl locked Chaos into place, feeling itself fracture once more. A young new sibling flickered as it tried out different forms.

The ripples of the impact continued to echo outward. Thought and Instinct, not yet in alignment, were forced away from Unity. Thought swung out at an angle and pierced through Contemplation, causing more shockwaves to threaten the conjunction. Only Wolf's and Raven's quick thinking prevented further destruction. They copied Owl's actions, pulling power from all eight of the realms to give themselves the strength to lock Thought and Contemplation into alignment.

The first sibling, though still refusing to take on an identity of its own, did the same for Instinct, catching her before she could spiral out of control.

What remained of the All-Mind, shared between Owl and its siblings, fractured three more times.

The planes were now locked in place, but that wouldn't be enough. The linkages were fragile. While Unity's original plan had been intended as permanent, the misaligned arrangement meant that the slightest movement could spell destruction. To truly make the link permanent, one more step was necessary.

Owl couldn't do it alone. One by one, its siblings--his brothers--joined in. Opening themselves to the waves of energy rippling across the conjunction, they tied the realms together, weaving all the powers into one.

The shifting gray fog surrounding them burned away in a wide circle. At the center, and soaring high above, the powers they'd used braided together, intertwining to form a massive glowing pillar.

Cradled inside the pillar, a new power formed, comprised of bits and pieces of all the others.

The magic of The Collision.

###

Chapter One

Two men rode through muddy streets under the watchful gaze of the locals.

"I don't like the way they're staring at me," the one on the left muttered.

"You shouldn't have worn your armor," Conley replied to his traveling companion. His own armor and weapons, and his black priest robes, were stashed away on their shared pack mule.

"I'm not riding into barbarian territory without armor!" Sir Osbert retorted, a little too loudly. A nearby townswoman, taking a break from beating a rug outside her cottage, overheard him. She scowled and turned her back, refusing to look their way.

Lone Rock, a small town eighty miles north of Larso, wasn't truly barbarian territory. After the North Border War, one of the clans had settled down there, taking land for themselves rather than raiding it. The town and surrounding ranches had lost much of their population during the war, and the people had grudgingly accepted their new neighbors out of necessity more than anything else. That acceptance had become more genuine when the freeholders--as the former barbarians called themselves--took on the role of defending the area from clans raiding out of the Carved Basin or from farther north.

"It makes you look like a knight," Conley said. "They seem to have long memories here."

"Let's just find your friend and get out of here," Osbert said, then raised his voice. "Hey, you!" he called out to a group of workers hauling casks. "Where's the temple of Pallisur?"

They ignored him, but the next man didn't. "Temple is outside of town," the fellow said in his heavy accent. "West, past those trees. Priest is already gone, though."

"Gone?" Conley asked. "Do you mean Priest Delvin? Where did he go?"

"Yes, Delvin. Joined army."

Osbert furrowed his brow. "Why would he do that?"

The man shrugged. "Why not? Is

your

army. Are up near Ashwood now." He strode away, evidently done answering questions.

According to the map, Ashwood was ten miles northwest. What was the army doing so far outside Larso's borders? Had Rusol launched attacks at others besides Corec?

And how had they gotten there without leaving behind any sign? Conley and Osbert had taken the same route the army would have used, except for skirting around Northtower to avoid the demon-controlled troops. They hadn't seen any indication of a large force passing through.

From the look on Osbert's face, it was clear he felt the same confusion. "So we came all this way for nothing?"

"Let's head to Ashwood," Conley said. "If we can just talk to Delvin, he'll help." Rusol's soldiers wouldn't have a reason to prevent the other priest from leaving, but did any of the officers know the truth? "We should stop at the temple first. There might be someone there who knows more."

"Fine," Osbert said, "but we'd better not get stuck riding to the other end of the kingdom after all this."

Delvin wasn't their only lead, but he was the only one Conley knew personally. The next best choice was a man Sir Loris had encountered two decades earlier, and who'd lived in Westport at the time... if Loris's memory was accurate.

Priests with the blessing of banishment were rare, but the lectors back in seminary had suggested Delvin was strong enough to fight a demonic curse. That had to be similar to a compulsion spell, Conley figured.

Even as one of Pallisur's own priests, it had been strange to discuss the details of divine magic with unblessed members of the Order after the battle at Hilltop Village. The dislike of magic had deep roots within the Church.

Osbert hated it more than most, but that hate had made him the first to offer himself up as a bodyguard when Conley volunteered to go on this journey. While the two of them had been on different sides during the battle, they'd faced the dragon together, and that counted for something. Conley had accepted the offer before Sir Loris could foist someone else on him instead.

For now they needed more information, so they headed for the temple. The building wasn't fancy--more of a wooden lodge than a temple--but it was larger than Conley had expected. Much larger than his own little temple back at Warden's Keep. It seemed Pallisur did actually have some followers here.

It had become common practice in the Church to assign blessed priests to serve rural locations, away from the cities, but this had to be one of the most remote assignments of all. Conley had trained with the understanding that he'd return home to the free lands afterward, but Delvin was Larsonian born and bred, and had begun his career in Telfort before being transferred to minister to the barbarians. Conley had privately wondered whether the change was punishment for some transgression, but perhaps the position was needed after all.

Osbert tried the door, which was locked, then peered through the nearest window. "I don't see anyone."

"Delvin's been here for years now--he must have helpers. Maybe a student. Let's check around back to see if he's got separate living quarters."

A new voice spoke up from behind them. "He does, and he wonders why you're asking. Turn around and keep your hands off your weapons."

They spun around to find a man in black priest robes, flanked by two soldiers wearing padded gambesons and holding loaded crossbows.

"Delvin!" Conley said. "We were looking for you."

Delvin squinted. "Conley? Is that you? Since when have you been able to grow a beard?" He motioned to his companions to point their crossbows down. "He's from the free lands, not Larso."

"Someone in town said you'd joined the army," Conley told him.

"So I have," Delvin agreed. He indicated his companions. "I'm showing our scouts the area before we come any farther south. The people here are my flock, such as they are, and I don't want any problems."

"Come

south

?"

Delvin cocked his head to the side for a moment, then chuckled. "Ahh, I see. You thought I meant Larso's army. No, my friend. I'm with the Army of the Order."

"The what?"

"It's a long story, but it turns out that most of the Carved Basin is beholden to our Lord Pallisur. I take it you didn't receive the Vision of the Herald? It was a few years back, but I don't think it spread much farther south than here."

"I've never had any sort of vision."

"To be brief, Pallisur chose a herald to spread his word. A bit odd, her being a woman and all, but she served the local ruler in Blue Vale--Leonis--until he died, and now his people follow her. I can tell you all about that later. For now, what brings you so far from home?"

Conley did his best to explain the demonic compulsion at Fort Northtower without accusing Rusol.

"That's quite the tale," Delvin said. "And as it happens, I know just who can help."

#

For a brief moment, Conley thought Ephrenia was Ariadne. The two women had similar builds and brown hair, similar pointed ears, but most obvious of all, Ephrenia's armor was made of the same reflective metal as Ariadne's, and was nearly identical in style.

He got his surprise under control as Delvin made introductions. The other person in the command tent, General Calum, appeared to be one of Ariadne's people as well, though he didn't wear the armor. The rumor in Hilltop Village was that Ariadne was seaborn, though to Conley's knowledge, she'd never made that claim herself. He'd been under the impression she was from somewhere in Cordaea, but why would two Cordaeans be leading an army of the Order in Aravor? The coincidence made him wary.

"Sir, my Lady, these two say there's demonic magic in Northtower," Delvin was saying. "They've come to ask for our aid."

Ephrenia raised an eyebrow. "Demonic magic?" she asked.

Osbert nodded. "Compulsion, some people called it. It made them do things against their will. We've heard testimony from the knights and priests who were freed, and they all said the same thing--it was King Rusol that did it. He's a mage and a false king. The knights of Hightower intend to force the Church to renounce him."

Conley grimaced. After all his care in not mentioning Rusol's role in front of anyone else, Osbert had come right out and said it. How would the others react? Were they loyal to Larso, or to the Order?

General Calum laughed, though there was no humor in his tone when he spoke. "Well, Ephrenia, you wanted to reunite the Order. It seems we've just been given a way in."

"Perhaps," she said, "though I'm curious about a few things, Sir Osbert." She drew closer and tapped his cuirass. "To start with, where did you manage to obtain High Guard infantry armor?"

Osbert wrinkled his brow. "This?" he asked. "It came from Corec Tarwen--payment for helping to slay the dragon that was attacking the free lands."

Ephrenia and the general shared a glance. "Corec Tarwen?" Calum said. "And

he

got the armor from...?"

"I don't know," Osbert said. "But--"

Conley nudged him before he could mention Ariadne. Not that Conley owed Corec any loyalty--the man certainly hadn't shown much toward him--but Ariadne wasn't Corec, and Conley still wasn't certain where Ephrenia's loyalties lay.