Fire and Dust

      «Do you see any nuances that… interest you?» Her voice was throaty.
      «Definitely. A minute ago, your smile started in your eyes and bloomed through your whole face. Now, it's only your mouth that's smiling. Your eyes are as cold as the ninth level of Hell.»
      She swung her sword, but I had my own blade ready, easily parrying the attack. Skittering back a few steps, she graced me with a glittering leer. «What a clever boy! Who would have guessed your wee male brain wouldn't be completely blinded by animal lust? Once I've made this tiefling slag my own, I must have you on my side too.»
      The voice came from Yasmin's lips… but of course, it wasn't Yasmin speaking.

* * *

      The woman in front of me held her sword with Yasmin's strength, but none of Yasmin's skill. I couldn't tell if she was even making an effort to guard herself; certainly, it would have been laughably easy to knock the blade aside and run her through. Just one small problem…
      «Yes,» Rivi laughed with Yasmin's mouth, «you must be torn, poor man. On one hand, I'm sure you could kill this lovely body without a speck of trouble. On the other, I've detected a wee fondness, shall we say, between you and this woman. Can you really kill her to get me? Especially when you have no idea whether killing her will hurt me at all.»
      «If you've switched bodies with Yasmin —»
      «But that's the question, isn't it?» Rivi interrupted. «Is Yasmin's wee soul safe and sound in my own body… a simple swap? Or is Yasmin still inside this body, but dominated by my vastly superior willpower?»
      «In a contest of willpower between you and Yasmin,» I said, «I'd put my gold on Yasmin any day.»
      «Loyalty!» she chuckled, clapping her hands with delight. «How quaint. And perhaps, darling, the contest between me and Yasmin might have been a wee bit fiercer another time, another place. However, for one enchanted second, your dear-heart completely let down her guard – no doubt staring into your strong manly eyes. She opened herself so wide… well, I just couldn't resist slithering in. And now that I'm inside, only another psionic could possibly throw me out again.»
      She simpered, as if she expected praise for being so clever. I marveled at just how repugnant I could find the face that I loved; at how the same flesh and bone could be so transformed by the spirit within. Then again, a painter's eye is keenly attuned to such subtleties – a tiny stroke of the brush can change a portrait's features from stern composure to pompous buffoonery. I'd played such tricks many times on canvas; I just never expected to see the effect in real life.
      «All right,» I said, «have fun in Yasmin's body. I'm going to find your real carcass.» Stepping around her, I strode off down the corridor, heading for the room where Wheezle and I had found Rivi's belongings on our first visit to the Spider. Perhaps Rivi's body wouldn't be there, but it was the natural place to start looking.
      Rivi/Yasmin loosed an indignant squeal and scurried to follow on my heels. «You can't just ignore me!» she cried. «I'm in your lover's body!»
      «So?»
      «So you should… you should…» Her voice trailed off.
      «I should moan and groan that Yasmin's possessed? Beg you to let her go? Pike that, Rivi,» I laughed, «the best way to handle brats is to ignore them.»
      And I ran down the hall, leaving Rivi to fume.

* * *

      Let me say for the record that I was not so bla sas I wanted Rivi to believe – seeing the nasty wee albino inside Yasmin's body gave me cold chills. If Rivi wanted, she could use Yasmin's own sword to start carving up her body, flesh wounds just to horrify me or a good slash to the throat to end it all. One reason I ran was to get away before such ideas occurred to Rivi's foul mind; she wouldn't hurt Yasmin unless I was there to watch. Besides, Rivi might not be able to damage Yasmin without dislodging herself: the pain of injury might break Rivi's concentration, sending her back to her own body. I didn't know if psionics truly worked like that, but I prayed to The Lady it was so.
      In less than a minute, I had reached the machine room where Wheezle and I found the clay tablets. Unlike the room where we'd fought the Fox, this place still had its engines intact: pistons clanging, steam hissing, belts slapping through pulleys and gears. In the corner of the main room, the walls of the control bunker had turned transparent… a disconcerting effect, even if I'd seen it before. Rivi's body lay comfortably on a cot inside the room, her eyes closed, her hands folded, her chest rising and falling with tranquil breaths. The grinders, white and brown, stood atop large glass jars beside the cot; dust trickled out of each grinder like sand through an hourglass, so that the jars were now half full.
      This looks easy, I thought to myself: just walk in, put my rapier to Rivi's throat, and threaten to carve her like mutton unless she lets go of Yasmin's mind. But why waste breath on threats? Why not try a gash or two, non-lethal cuts to see if the pain made it impossible for Rivi to keep Yasmin under control? I strode toward the door, ready to wreak violence on the albino body…
      …and the sodding door was locked.
      The body on the cot stirred, opened her eyes, and smirked as she sat up. «Troubles, darling?»
      «Just a minor setback,» I replied. «If I can't get in, you can't get out. How long does it take to die of thirst, Rivi?»
      «More time than you've got, Britlin dear. I've given back Yasmin her precious wee mind… with one tiny alteration.»
      I shuddered. «What did you do?»
      «A simple illusion – when she sees you, she'll think she's looking at me.»
      Behind my back, Yasmin roared, «Rivi, prepare to die!»

* * *

      Yasmin had a longsword, I had a rapier. Her weapon gave her the edge in strength, mine the edge in speed. In terms of skill, I thought we might be evenly matched, but in terms of motivation… she burned with a killer's fury, while I was sick at heart.
      Her first charge was pure rage, no feints, no tricks, no strategy – just a lightning lunge that would have gutted me if I hadn't knocked it aside and backed off fast. I would have gone for Rivi the same way: swift and lethal, trying to put her down before she could use her mental witchery. Yasmin followed up with more brute strength, slashes, thrusts, hammering at my guard, urgently pressing to end this quickly. I parried, dodged, blocked, and sideslipped, until I finally saw a momentary opening and drove a kick into her stomach. She staggered back a foot, then retreated further to a point where she could study me warily.
      «You're better than I expected,» she said. «Maybe because you're using Britlin's sword. What did you do to him?»
      «I am Britlin,» I replied. «Can't you tell?»
      «Sorry, darling,» called Rivi, lounging on her cot, «she won't understand a word you're saying. All she hears is gibberish.»
      I cursed and pointed toward the control room. If Yasmin couldn't understand what I said, at least she could follow my finger. «Look!» I told her, «there's the real Rivi!»
      «Sorry again,» Rivi laughed, «but her wee brain can only see one of me. I'm afraid that one is you.»
      «If you've hurt Britlin,» Yasmin stared venomously at me, «I'll run you through —»
      She stabbed forward in the middle of her sentence: an old trick, aimed at skewering your opponent while he's waiting for you to finish the phrase. I parried, ducked under a moving machine-belt, and blocked another thrust mere inches from my groin.
      The next two minutes were hell: Yasmin attacked me with everything she'd got, and I could only defend. Such a fight goes against all a swordsman's training – you always follow blocks with attacks, because more than half of defense is your opponent's fear of offense. If Yasmin ever realized I wouldn't strike back, she could take enormous advantage of the situation… throw caution to the winds, commit to extravagant all-or-nothing thrusts, leave herself wide open as she tried to take me down. I'm sure she considered such tactics after our first few exchanges, for she must have noticed I was reining myself in. Still, she may have thought my lack of aggression was a trick on Rivi's part, some ruse to lull her into a mistake; and to be honest, I couldn't completely restrict myself to defensive maneuvers. Sometimes, when I saw an opening, when her blade moved an instant too slowly or she had to duck a rocker arm that clicked past her head, my fencing reflexes took over and I attacked in spite of myself. Thank The Lady, I always stopped short of a death thrust… although most of the time, it was Yasmin who stopped the blow, not I.
      Don't get the idea that we dueled for so long without landing any touches. Yasmin caught me a dozen times, and despite my intentions, I pinked her back just as often. Our salvation was the uncanny white cloth the nagas had produced for us: Yasmin's outfit shaped like her original dragonskin sheath, covering her body from toe to throat; and my outfit tailored into normal jacket, shirt and pants, but still protecting everything but my hands and head. The cloth had an uncanny ability to turn straight thrusts into glancing blows, to resist slashes and soften the force of even the most vicious chops. True, the clothes were not totally impervious to steel (as I found when Yasmin's blade tore a gash in my left forearm), but they saved me on several occasions when skill and guile could not.
      And so we fought amidst the machines, clambering over cogs, scalded by spurts of steam, playing cat-and-mouse around the slamming pistons. Rivi sat in her control room, mocking and jeering in the hope of goading me to a moment's inattention. I ignored her taunts and spoke only to Yasmin: «It's me, it's Britlin, can't you tell?» She couldn't be fooled forever, could she? Rivi's illusion would have to falter eventually; or Yasmin might figure it out on her own. Yasmin knew well enough that Rivi could play tricks on her mind, and if she thought everything through – how reluctantly I was fighting, how my clothes had the same unnatural protective quality as hers, how my words turned into babble as they came from my mouth…
      Yes, in the long run, Yasmin would figure it out. The only question was whether she'd kill me first.
      A furious gout of steam sprayed from a release-cock off to my right, blasting a mist of condensation over a large pressure dial on the side of a boiler. The dial's face was glass, and almost three feet in diameter – made big, I suppose, so even a short-sighted operator could see if the gauge hit the red. The fogged-over glass gave me an idea… an idea that almost killed me, as Yasmin took advantage of my momentary distraction to make a vicious hack at my throat. I dodged back by the narrowest of margins, so close her blade trimmed my beard; then I spurred myself into a flurry of offense, driving her back almost ten yards until I forced her to duck behind a camshaft for protection.
      She braced herself, expected me to press the attack. I didn't; now that she was safely out of the way, I ran back to the steamed-up dial and wrote with my finger, I'M BRITLIN.
      The letters were abysmally blurred, partly because I was writing as fast as a panicked rabbit, partly because condensation is not well-suited for calligraphy; but I squinched out my message in dripping script, then stood back, waiting for Yasmin to look at it. She came forward cautiously, fearful of tricks… and even after she'd read the words, I could see she was far from convinced: this was just the sort of deception Rivi might use to hoodwink a gullible enemy. Yasmin didn't lower her sword, and the look in her eye said she might start the fight again any second. For the moment, however, she wasn't trying to put me in the dead-book. That was all I could hope for.
      The real Rivi, still on her cot at the rear of the control room, couldn't quite see the fogged-over dial from where she was sitting. Now she stood up and came forward to the spot where the controller would normally sit, a place with a clear line of sight to the gauge. Her jaw dropped, her eyes widened, and she split the air with a screech of rage, so intense I swear I could feel it as tangible heat scorching the air. Yasmin gave a start, then turned her eyes in the direction of the scream. Her grip tightened on the butt of her sword, and she took a single step toward the control room.
      «My, my,» I said to Yasmin, «looks like Rivi just fumbled her hold on you.»
      «Hush,» Yasmin growled. «I'm fantasizing how lovely it will look to see fresh red blood on that scrawny white skin. A nice gingham effect.»
      «Unfortunately, the control room door is locked.»
      «I'll chew it open.»
      «Don't – I like your smile.» Patting her on the shoulder, I whispered, «We have a way past locked doors as soon as he wakes up.»
      «And what will Rivi do to us in the meantime?» Yasmin demanded. «Make us kill each other? Make us into her slaves? We can't afford to wait for Hezekiah…» She stopped for a second, then continued. «…to come and save us from this mind-raping slag who just gloats inside that unbreachable control room…»
      Yasmin's voice grew louder with every word, but I wasn't listening to what she was saying, anymore than she was listening herself. She was simply talking, ranting to hold Rivi's attention; because in the moment that Yasmin had fallen silent, Hezekiah, Irene, and Miriam had materialized inside the control room, appearing silently behind Rivi's back. Yasmin had recovered her surprise quickly enough to continue her tirade… and in mere seconds, I expected big-knuckled Miriam to punch Rivi's face through a control panel.
      I should have known better.
      Miriam stepped forward stealthily, fists coming up to the ready; but Hezekiah, Clueless boy, had somehow talked Miriam into giving him the firewand she'd acquired at the Vertical Sea. He aimed it at Rivi now, and shouted, «Surrender or I'll shoot!»
      Despite the rumble of machinery all around us, I could distinctly hear the sound of everyone cringing.

* * *

      Miriam leapt forward anyway, hoping to scrag Rivi before the nasty wee albino had a chance to react. Unfortunately, Rivi's tantrum had run its course, and she was ready to cause more trouble. Before Miriam could land the first punch, Rivi lashed out a blast of psychic force so powerful it rippled the air. The bolt struck Miriam square in the face, so hard it knocked her to knees… but she got up again after a long count of three, moving as stiffly as something undead.
      I didn't like the blank expression she wore.
      «Surrender!» Hezekiah cried again. «I really mean it.»
      Rivi laughed at him. «You're going to shoot me with a fireball, are you? In this tiny wee room? Do you know the damage fireballs make in such a confined space? You'd be fried to a crisp yourself.»
      «Maybe I wouldn't mind frying to a crisp if I took you with me.» Keeping the wand trained on Rivi, the boy crouched beside the cot and tucked the grinders into his pockets. «Maybe I should just grab you and teleport you out where there's no air.»
      «What a brave wee you!» Rivi jeered. «And in time, you might actually find the courage to do it. Pity you won't have the chance.»
      She snapped her fingers and Miriam surged forward. Hezekiah could only stare in horror as the woman of his affections knocked the firewand out of his hand and threw him back against the wall. A moment later, she had pinioned his arms at the wrists, holding him as solid as granite despite his struggles to break free.
      «You're such a trusting wee soul,» Rivi told the boy. «Miriam worked for me, you knew that. Do you think I'd put her on the payroll without a handle on her? Oh yes, her mind is almost entirely her own – it's a bore to make someone your abject slave, and it's tiring work too – but I left a wee seed of submission in the deepest cranny of her brain, just in case I needed it. Which means I win again.»
      «No.»
      The word came from Irene. She had picked up the firewand. She aimed it at Rivi.
      «And who's this new addition to your merry band?» Rivi asked. «An wee orc maiden… how charming. Orc maiden, do you realize that I can crawl inside your mind and twist it around my finger?»
      «You can't.» Irene took a step forward.
      «You think I can't control two people at once?» Rivi said. «You're quite… quite…»
      Irene took another step forward.
      «Stop!» Rivi shouted.
      Hezekiah, still held tightly by Miriam, let loose a nasty chuckle. «You're in trouble, Rivi. Uncle Toby says it's next to impossible to control people who are insa – …whose minds work in unusual ways. Their delus – …I mean, their special thoughts are like impenetrable labyrinths between you and their real selves.»
      «Your Uncle Toby's a berk,» Rivi snapped. «Just because this old slag is barmy doesn't mean I can't…»
      Irene took another step toward the albino. «My prince wants you to surrender. Surrender!»
      «You can't fire that wand,» Rivi snarled. «You don't know the invocation.»
      «I heard Miriam say the words,» Irene replied. «Back at the Vertical Sea. Surrender to my prince!»
      «Never!»
      I would have sworn Rivi couldn't conceal so much as a toothpick inside that sheer black gown of hers; but she crossed her arms so that each hand could reach into the opposite sleeve, and a second later, out popped two more firewands – twins to the one Irene held.
      «How many of those sodding things did the Fox make?» Yasmin groaned; but Rivi was already fixing Irene with a look of sneering superiority.
      «See these?» Rivi gloated. «See what I've got, you addle-coved wee barmy? I've got you outnumbered, that's what I've got. Outflanked and out-firepowered, follow me, darling? Even your pathetic excuse for a brain should see you're beaten.»
      «You will not surrender?» Irene said quietly.
      «Why should I?» Rivi asked. «You're a loser, just like the rest of your pathetic wee band. You surrender to me!»
      The wand in Irene's hand aimed straight at Rivi's heart. The old orc opened her mouth. «In nomine —»
      «Uh-oh,» said Hezekiah.
      «Irene, don't!» said I.
      «Down!» said Yasmin… but I was already throwing myself onto the floor.
      «– Vulpes,» Irene finished.
      Not just one fireball. Three of them. From three firewands. Irene's and Rivi's, all triggered by the same invocation. All going off simultaneously in a single small room.
      A moment before, the control room walls had been as transparent as glass. Now with a triple flash of fire, the interior was splash-blasted black: as black as a coat of paint, except that this blackness came from the incinerated remains of everything inside. All the people, all the control panels, even the air itself had been baked in an instant, vaporized to opaque black char.
      Then came the sound of the explosion: an almost delicate CRUMP, as if the inferno was so sure of itself it didn't need to make noise. The walls of the room gave a tiny shiver, but that was all – whatever the room was made of, it was strong enough to stand a volcano.
      Slowly, Yasmin and I stood up. The blackened hulk of the control room gave off heat like a cast-iron stove; touch a paper to it, and the page would burst into flames. No mere human could approach those sizzling walls without roasting his skin.
      «Hezekiah!» I called. «You teleported away in time, didn't you? Hezekiah?»
      No answer.
      Yasmin turned a slow circle, eyes scanning the machine room around us. I did the same – no sign of the boy.
      «Maybe he teleported to another part of the Spider,» Yasmin said in a low voice.
      «I hope so,» I replied. «If he panicked and ended up out in the dust, he's dead. Hezekiah?»
      My only answer was a sharp hiss of steam: a protracted hiss that sent a cloud of vapor roiling into the air.
      «I just had a nasty thought,» Yasmin murmured. «All these machines must be controlled from inside that room, right?»
      «Right.»
      «And I'll bet there's not much left of the control panels in there.»
      I stared at the charred walls, still radiating a blistering temperature. «No argument,» I told her. «We'd better get out of here.»
      «What about the others?»
      «Hezekiah was touching Miriam. If he managed to get away, he took her with him. They'll know enough to head for the gate to Mount Celestia. As for Irene and Rivi… they're gone.»
      «Are you sure?» Yasmin asked.
      I lifted my hand to feel the heat from the control room walls. «No chance of going inside to check for bodies. You won't find bodies anyway – just albino cinders.» In the rear of the room, a cog suddenly gave a loud clank, followed by a hideous grinding sound. «Come on,» I said, holding out my hand. «We have to go.»

* * *

      By the time we reached the upper floor, it was obvious the Spider was sinking into the dust again – not a precipitous dive like the last time, but a slow swiveling descent like a screw twisting into a board. Some of the legs were walking; some of the legs had stopped. And so the Spider rotated gradually downward into the infinite sea of Dust.
      «It's beautiful, isn't it?» Yasmin said, staring out the window at the endless gray expanse.
      «It's stark,» I replied. «I suppose to a Handmaid of Entropy, that's the same thing as beautiful.»
      «Sometimes,» she nodded.
      In silence, I contemplated her face. In silence, she contemplated the ultimate desert. I thought of how fondly she'd talked about the Plane of Dust back in Carceri; so it didn't come as a surprise when she murmured, «I'm not going with you to Mount Celestia.»
      «You're staying here?»
      «For a while,» she nodded. «When I look out and see all that peace…» She tilted her head toward the dust. «I need this, Britlin. Just for a time. It's not your fault, but I need to let things sink in… see what I can put behind me.»
      «Are you sure you can survive out there?»
      «I have the spells I need,» she answered. «Besides, this plane is my spiritual home. It will sustain me.» She pressed one palm to the glass, then slowly let it slide downward. «Somewhere out there,» she said, «the Doomguard have a stronghold: the Citadel Alluvius. It's very quiet, very peaceful. I healed there once before.»
      «There's no real proof you're my sister,» I told her.
      She smiled and turned my way. «Trying to kick me out of the family?»
      I shook my head.
      Laying a cool hand on my cheek, she leaned in very close and whispered, «If you come across proof, one way or the other, come find me.»
      «Find you here?»
      «Or someplace else. It's really quite a small multiverse.»
      She let her hand linger on my face a moment longer, then turned away. With one last look out the window, Yasmin smiled and began walking down the nearest arm of the Spider. When I moved to follow her, she gestured for me to stop. «I have to go alone, Britlin. I can survive out there, but you can't.»
      «You think you can walk where you're going? This plane is infinite – the Citadel could be millions of miles away.»
      «This plane is the chalice of my soul,» she said. «When my soul has walked for long enough, the Citadel will come into sight.»
      «And if I walk long enough, will you come into sight again?»
      She made no answer.
      I stayed by the window. In time, I saw her white-clad figure slip into view, walking lightly on the dust. She left no footprints.
      Slowly, the Spider continued to rotate, notching its way ever downward. Yasmin disappeared from sight; and when the Spider had come around once more to the same angle, my sister was gone.

* * *

      «What'cha looking at?» said a nasal voice behind my shoulder.
      I let my head thump forward against the window pane. It felt so good, I banged it again. «Hezekiah,» I grimaced, «I'm coming to believe that nothing in the multiverse can kill you.»
      «Shows how Clueless you are,» the boy said. «Uncle Toby will slice me for sure if he hears I have a price on my head. How long have I been away from home? Two weeks?»
      I turned to face him. Miriam was there too, her arm clasped tightly around his waist. Both of them wore grins that managed to be smug and sheepish at the same time. «What have you two been up to?» I asked.
      «Nothing,» Hezekiah answered defensively. «I teleported away from Rivi in the nick of time, and a second later, Miriam's mind snapped back to normal. She was grateful to be free.»
      «Grateful,» I repeated.
      «Can't a woman be grateful?» Miriam demanded.
      «You might have told us you were all right.»
      «There was no hurry,» Hezekiah replied. «Rivi was totally incinerated, right? You two were outside the room, so you were okay. And Miriam was grateful.»
      «Yes, I believe we've established Miriam's state of mind,» I muttered. «Do you still have the grinders?»
      «Nah, I teleported them outside. High time they got lost in the dust again, right?»
      «Best place for them,» I nodded.
      «That's what I said,» Miriam put in. «Sod the piking grinders.»
      «Anyway,» Hezekiah went on, «I was glad to get rid of the grinders but I was feeling pretty lowdown about Irene – and Oonah and Wheezle and everyone else – and Miriam said, Kid, you could use some cheering up…»
      The boy continued to babble all the way to Mount Celestia.
 
       THE END