Lawrence Watt-Evans - In the Empire of Shadow

“Not much,” Prossie said, a trifle uneasily.

“Oh,” Amy said.

Her stomach cramped.

“I wish Valadrakul would hurry up,” she said. “And I wish…oh, the hell with it. I wish I were safe at home and this was all over, that’s what I wish!”

“Me, too,” Prossie.

* * * *

Prossie watched as Amy lay back on the grass and closed her eyes. The Earthwoman had a hand on her belly, and winced occasionally at some internal discomfort.

There were advantages to being cut off, Prossie thought; she couldn’t feel Amy’s discomfort, whatever it was, at all.

And of course, being in this other universe made it possible to keep her contacts with Carrie to a minimum, as well; Carrie had not yet been forced to realize that Prossie was deliberately disobeying orders, that Prossie had lied, had given false reports.

And she didn’t know that Prossie had willingly let Raven set Dibbs and the others up to be sacrificed, in order to preserve the group he led, the group Prossie was in.

Of course, the brass back at Base One had sent the entire expedition out as a sacrifice to save face for themselves, but Carrie would expect better of a fellow telepath, wouldn’t she?

Prossie knew that Carrie suspected something was very wrong, beyond what had been reported; Prossie suspected that Carrie knew Prossie had gone rogue.

That’s what it was, of course; that’s what she had done. And that was one more reason, aside from her increased chances for survival, that she was very glad that she had gone with Raven’s group. If she had stayed with Dibbs people would have asked her questions, demanded she relay orders, and her treachery would have been revealed. With this group, no one bothered her-even the four soldiers seemed to have forgotten that she was a telepath, that she could talk to Base One at any time. She could keep her secrets.

She could never go back to Base One, though. She could probably never again risk reentering the Galactic Empire anywhere.

She would never again be able to live in her own reality, and that meant that she would never again have her full telepathic ability. She would always be able to touch the minds of her family, back in the Empire, but no one else.

That was a frightening and lonely thought, in a way, but it wasn’t all bad. She would never again have to feel the fear and hatred of others, would never be forced to share in someone else’s pain or sick terror. She had been mulling it over for hours now, as they traveled, and she was beginning to reconcile herself to the idea.

She didn’t think much of Faerie as a place to live, though; she thought Earth would be much more enjoyable. When the others got their space-warp, their magical portal, open, she would go through it with them.

Prossie?

Carrie. Prossie looked up; no one was watching her.

“What is it?” she sent.

“You’ve been ignoring me. All today and last night, and even before that. I don’t think you even heard some of what I sent.”

“I probably didn’t,” she admitted. “I was thinking.”

“Prossie, you’re in trouble. I can’t get answers out of you. General Hart and Under-Secretary Bascombe are both…well, they say they’re furious, but they’re relieved. They can write off the whole mission if they lose contact with you. They’ve already written off that poor lieutenant and all those men. They can’t admit that, of course, but it’s true-and Prossie, they’ll blame it on you. They’ll say that the crazy mutant bitch screwed up communications and got everyone killed. And if they need a scapegoat on this end, they’ll get me. Prossie, I’m really scared about this.”

Prossie hesitated, then said, “Carrie, it’s okay. Don’t worry about me. Save yourself, Carrie-tell them I really have screwed things up. Tell them anything you like-anything they like. Let them blame me. I really did disobey orders.”

“Prossie, you didn’t, did you? Have you gone crazy?”

“Maybe I have. You tell them whatever you need to tell them to get yourself out of trouble, Carrie, and don’t worry about me-I won’t be coming back.”

For a long moment, Prossie heard only with her ears, only the gentle near-silence of the Faerie hillside-a gentle wind rustling leaves, Wilkins muttering something, a distant bird’s call. She hadn’t heard many birds in the forest, but now one was singing somewhere.

Then Carrie asked, “Are you really sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Before either of them could transmit more, Valadrakul made an unexpected noise, a sort of great wheezing sigh, as he let his breath out all at once.

All eyes but Amy’s turned toward the wizard, but no one spoke as the man got slowly to his feet and turned to address the rest of the party.

Amy, Prossie noticed, stirred, but did not sit up.

For a few seconds, no one spoke.

“He is bespoke,” Valadrakul announced. “Taillefer is called, and he comes. We’re to meet him at yon ruin, at nightfall.” He pointed to the misshapen edifice on the ridge ahead.

“Prossie, what’s happening?” Carrie asked.

“Nothing,” Prossie said. “It’s not important any more. Don’t worry about it.”

The contact wavered as Carrie floundered for something to say, for the right way to respond.

“You’re really leaving the family?” she asked at last.

Prossie frowned. She hadn’t thought of it that way, but of course, that’s just what she was doing.

“Yes,” she said, “I really am.”

“Then good-bye, Prossie.”

“Good-bye, Carrie-but hey, I’d still like to hear from you sometimes, you or any of the others. If you can’t find me here, check on Earth, too.”

“Earth? But, Prossie…”

“Good-bye, Carrie.”

“Well, come on, folks,” Pel said, marching down the slope. “We’ve got to get there by nightfall.”

“We’ve no need to rush headlong ’cross the vale,” Raven said, as the party splashed through the small stream at the foot of the slope. “A meal would do us all good.”

“Where are we going to get a meal?” Pel asked, looking about. “I don’t see any shops or restaurants or anything.”

Stoddard stared at the Earthman; Raven let out a bark of laughter.

“Hardly, friend Pel,” Raven said. “These slopes are the Starlinshire Downs, deep in the heart of Shadow’s domain, and to the best of what I know, there’s neither village nor keep nearby. Yet are there people, and the customs of hospitality surely have not been forgot entirely, even here.”

Amy shuddered. “This is Shadow’s territory, then?”

“Aye,” Stoddard said sourly. “All the world is Shadow’s.”

“And this part fell to Shadow centuries past,” Raven added, “yet surely some semblance of decency must remain.”

Pel looked about, startled. “This land’s been under Shadow for hundreds of years?” he asked.

“Aye,” Raven said, looking at the Earthman with sudden interest. “What of it? Think you of aught that might aid us, then?”

“No,” Pel said, “it’s nothing important.” He blinked, rubbed his nose, and gazed about.

The surrounding landscape was not at all what he would have expected after centuries of rule by an evil wizard. In the movies and stories, when evil fell over the land everything died, everything was dead and black and gray. Clouds were supposed to blot out the sun, if the sun still rose at all. The countryside was supposed to reflect the gloom and despair of its people.

This place didn’t. The sun still shone-a bit pale and watery, but bright enough The grass was green, the trees bore leaves, the crops were growing in the fields and most of the huts they had seen from the slope, while primitive, had looked reasonably clean and well-kept; Pel remembered noticing that the thatch on one was obviously fresh and new.