Steven Brust - Issola

—I realized that my surroundings had changed, that I was uncertain where I was, that—

—that it came from outside of self, if such a distinction is valid without time or place to hang it from, and the voices—

—is to be, in fact, nowhere, and nowhere is—

—Teldra and Aliera and Morrolan had cross-stepped while I lunged, I knew—

—came with eyes, and ears, and other things that—

—everywhere is here and there and there ought to be a way—

—that I was out of touch with my familiar and it—

—gave me the feeling that I was being studied, scanned, analyzed, and ultimately—

—to seize control, or at least to act, or at the very least to make a decision—

—had been years since I had come so—

—discarded, and permitted—

—to be holding a chain of gold light, in my mind if nowhere else so that in and through the shield of swirling gold which suddenly—

—close to panic—

—to stop, or resume—

—seemed to me to be a place, not a thing, that I could—

—but that, like so much else, is self-defeating, so I—

—the interrupted pace, the walk, the step, which in turn permitted—

—enter into and go through and be changed by—

—tried not to think about it, but trust in him and me, and just do—

—a junction of thought and a resonance of experience, that I managed, or thought I managed, or almost managed—

—spinning corridors of gold that were within and without, and then through once more, leaving me—

—and I guess it worked because what was before me became behind me, and here became there, which was all right because I—

—to make contact, once more, with my familiar familiar.

—somewhere real at last.

—was back.

“Well,” I said or thought, lying against the cold stone floor. “If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”

“Are you all right, Vlad?” It took me a moment to realize the voice belonged to Teldra, and even longer to understand that the question begged an answer. What the answer ought to be was beyond me.

“Vlad?”

I turned my head and made eye contact with her, looking up at her impossibly tall form, hoping she would see that I was at least somewhat sensible.

“You okay, Boss?”

“Ask something easier, it’ll take me some time to figure that out.”

“Where did you go?”

“That’s what I was going to ask you.”

Around then, I realized that we hadn’t actually gone any­where—we were still in the Jenoine’s prison.

“Vlad?” This was Morrolan’s voice. I managed to turn my head and see that he and Aliera were still there, as well. So nothing had changed, but everything had.

Story of my life.

I found my voice and managed, “How long?” In my own ears, my voice sounded weaker than I actually felt.

“How do you feel?” asked Aliera. Why can’t anyone just answer a Verra-be-damned question?

I started to say something snappy, but it was too much work, so I said, “Dry.”

Morrolan held a flask to my lips, and I drank some water. Damn, but it was good. I was going to ask him where he found it. Water. Wonderful stuff. Who knew?

“What happened, Vlad?” asked Morrolan. Yeah, like I was the right guy to ask.

“How long has it been?” I repeated. It was easier to talk now . I opened my eyes, not sure when I had closed them. Aliera and Morrolan were directly over me, staring down. Teldra was out of sight. Loiosh stood on the floor next to my left ear. Being the center of so much interest wasn’t as pleasant as I would have expected.

“As far as I can tell, you’ve been unconscious for around nine hours.”

“More like ten,” said Aliera.

Morrolan said, “My judgment—”

“Doing what in the meantime,” I said.

“Failing to reopen the gate,” said Aliera, with a look at Morrolan that the latter ignored.

“Okay,” I said. “Would someone like to help me up?”

Morrolan reached a hand out. With his help, I was able to stand up, and after a moment I was able to remain standing on my own. The room spun, then settled out, and—

“What the—?”

“What is it, Vlad?”

“Where are we?”

Silence greeted the question, which meant the answer couldn’t be anything I wanted to hear.

Aliera said, “Vlad, we’re in the same room we’ve been in all along.”

Yeah, that was one of the things I hadn’t wanted to hear.

Teldra was now looking at me, too. “What is it?” said Morrolan.

I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Where to begin.

“There is more to this place than used to meet the eye,” I said. “Either we’ve all been taken in by an illusion, or I’m being taken in by one now.”

Aliera closed her eyes momentarily, then opened them. “I detect no illusion,” she said. I shrugged.

“Perhaps,” said Morrolan, “you could describe what you are now seeing.”

“There is a large rock, or stone, in the middle of the floor right there.” I walked over to it, but didn’t touch it. “It’s about three feet high, maybe five feet long, and a foot and half wide at its widest point, but very irregular and jagged; it is mostly a dark shiny grey, with pink veins running through it.”

I glanced over at them, they were looking at me, not the rock.

“I don’t see it, Boss.”

“Figures.”

“That way,” I said, “against the wall, are four large jugs or vats, pottery of some kind, green with black geometrical patterns near the neck. They’re just a bit under five feet high and—” I walked over to them. “One seems to be filled with sand, another with ash, this one with, I don’t know, looks like water but I wouldn’t count on it, and this last one with something that looks like very tiny seashells.”

I turned my head. “Over this way—right here—is the doorway that Teldra and I found earlier; it is now plainly visible.”

Morrolan and Aliera looked at her; she shrugged and said, “Yes, we did find a doorway there.”

They turned back to me. “What else?” said Morrolan.

“The shelves are all filled.”

“With?”

“That one,” I said, gesturing, “has weapons. I mean, things that are obviously weapons—that look like weapons even to me. Swords, knives, daggers, lances, pikes. Things like that. There must be a hundred of them, all in all. The one over there has—I wish you could see it—it’s full of crystals. Some of them the size of the end of my finger, some of them fist size, a few of them the size of a lormelon. They’re a bit scary. And the colors vary from a mild pink to a deep purple, almost black. The big ones are both of the black color. Like I said, they’re a bit scary.”

I cleared my throat. “The shelf over at the far end has things I don’t recognize. Mostly metal, and peculiar shapes—some wheels, some devices made of several pieces riveted together, some partly made of leather or something else. Some that re­mind me of that strange object Sethra has. I would assume they are sorcerous devices of some kind, but I don’t know. I don’t feel like touching any of them. And the last shelf, this one, has more odd contraptions, but I recognize manacles among them.

“Okay,” I continued. “So much for the shelves. The walls are all painted with designs—black paint against a background that doesn’t look like I thought it did—more like a greyish blue. And the designs are, well, probably sorcerous. All geometrical shapes. The walls are covered with them, top to bottom, and there are various symbols scrawled in amongst them. I can draw them for you, if you’d like.”

“Yes,” said Aliera, at the same time Morrolan said, “Perhaps later.”