Lisa Smedman - Realms of Shadow

When he saw the woman, puzzlement gave way to lust and wariness, the latter because one such as this woman would never appear at a place such as this without trouble in the land or powerful magic at work.

Time for the druid-wizard to play her part, if she was really to make this man her own.

She adopted an expression of uncertainty and stammered a pattern of truths and half-truths. "I… I… felt drawn to this place. I have no one, and I dreamed that I must journey… I saw you with your rose, and I thought I would like to know love like that. So… here I am.

"I’ll leave if I came in error," she added, to dispel any doubts that might remain after her speech.

He said not a word-not one word for her in that voice! — but drew her inside.

Now I’ll see if I can call forth love as effectively as I can call forth pain, she thought. And, once I do, to see if love can grant me as much gratification. Perhaps, as some attest, even more.

She let her body take control-drew his head to hers, kissed him deeply, felt him kiss back. From there they fell to the floor, and so the day passed.

Afterward, as they sat at the table over fresh bowls of stew and the druid-wizard secretly used her magic to destroy any chance of a child taking root, the man finally spoke to her.

"I dreamed I would meet you," he said.

He had recurring dreams of a woman linked to him with powerful bonds. The bonds, though they kept the woman's spirit close to his, stretched over chasms of time and space. Her features were usually indistinct, but he thought she might look something like the druid-wizard.

"Was that the same dream in which your rose spoke to you?"

He looked at her askance. "No… you heard that?"

“Yes, I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself."

He frowned, then shook his head. "It's fine. It's probably good that you came now. I think I might have started to invent things, to hallucinate, if I'd been alone much longer."

Perhaps you already were hallucinating, the druid-wizard thought. She said, "How long have you been here?"

"I don't know. A long time. I got tired of cities and people and just wanted to get away for a while. How about you?"

"I've been alone for a long time, too. I live in the city, though, and I have… pets."

"That must help."

They fell into pregnant silence.

"Will you go back to the city, then?" he asked. "To take care of your pets?"

"Oh… yeah, I should. It's still home for now, even though I've found true love." She met his eyes and smiled as though at a joke. "Would you like to come with me?"

True love, she had said. The man supposed they were true lovers-he had dreamed of a woman something like this one, and this woman had been drawn here. But the words rang crass. He considered expressions of true love best uttered in times of great emotion, great change-not over bowls of half-eaten stew and among garden tools and cupboards. Just because she didn't share this fancy… that didn't mean he and this woman weren't destined for each other.

In any case, he had been away from the world long enough.

"I think… I think I will go with you," he said.

His thoughts drifted. What did this woman do, he wondered, when she wasn't trying to find her true love in the wilderness? And what city was she from?

He posed his questions.

"I do magic tricks," she replied, "in Phlan, on the Moonsea. I plan to move soon, though."

The druid-wizard watched the man clean up their dishes. Engineering his love had been easy; now she must figure out how to draw upon its power.

In the days and tendays that followed, the druid-wizard grew fond of the man. She enjoyed watching his thin muscles flex as he applied his pickaxe to stones with which he planned to line a walkway from the garden to the creek, for whoever might choose to occupy his cabin after they left. A small application of her magic could have broken the stones much more easily, but the time was not yet right to reveal to him exactly what kinds of "magic tricks" she could do.

One day, he showed her the parchment pages she had seen through the window when she first came upon the cabin-pages he studied in his spare time.

They were the notes of Chever.

The druid-wizard's eyes narrowed.

The man would not say how he had come by them. The druid-wizard guessed the experience must have been horrifying, as his face went gray and slack, and his eyes took on a faraway look, the few times she had tried to get him to divulge on the subject.

The man believed that the notes held some of the universe's secrets, which would be his if only he could unlock the notes' meaning. Sometimes he felt on the verge of something great, but so far his efforts had rewarded him with only enough enlightenment to make him want more.

On sunny days, the man showed the druid-wizard his favorite groves and clearings. When it rained, they toured hidden caves. He told her about strange beasts he had glimpsed higher up on the mountain slopes and about the occasional eccentric he had met while scavenging for food. In most of the places the man showed her, the druid-wizard could detect faint, benign magic-in sharp contrast to the darker magic to which she was more accustomed.

One day, as the man bathed in the creek, an old peddler arrived at the door. The druid-wizard bickered with the woman for a while-the woman was pushy; the druid-wizard didn't want to buy anything-before deciding she had had enough. As the man rounded the corner of the house, hair still wet, torso naked, he was just in time to watch in helpless disbelief as the druid-wizard turned the old woman into a cow.

He ran to the cow, screeching, "What have you done? You've killed her! Where did she go?"

He was making about as much sense as Chever’s notes. "She didn't go anywhere. She's right here." The druid-wizard indicated the cow.

"But… what about my supplies? How am I going to fix my rake?"

"Your rake…? You aren't going to need a rake in Phlan. Besides, wouldn't you much rather have steak?"

"Steak?!" the man cried, and he seemed to crumple. "What have you done? Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I told you I did magic for a living."

The man lowered himself to a bench near the front door and held his head in his hands.

The druid-wizard felt, for the first time in a long while, a hint of remorse.

The peddler-cow, who had known a moment of bewilderment, now came to her senses. She lunged for the druid-wizard, but the druid-wizard held her at bay with an invisible wall of magic.

The man didn't notice the cow's expelled breath as she bit the wall; his thoughts lay too deeply inward. The druid-wizard gently prodded him to his feet. He lifted his head to gaze at her, his eyes full of accusation.

"Come inside," she said. "I have something to show you."

Head bent, he obeyed. As the door closed behind them, the shield holding back the cow dissipated, and she began to charge the door.

Thud.

The man jumped the first time it happened, then peered out at the cow.

Thud.

"Is she all right?"

Thud.

"She's fine; just angry with me." The druid-wizard raised her hands to cast a spell. "Here, let me-"

"No! What are you doing?"

"I'm only going to give her rest."

His eyes seethed with mistrust.

"I promise," she assured him, "only rest."

His shoulders relaxed a little. He nodded reluctantly.

The druid-wizard cast the spell, and the cow sank to her knees and quieted, sides expanding and contracting as she took on the steady breathing of sleep.

The druid-wizard returned her attention to the man. She started to speak then paused. Finally, she said, "I know this whole thing might be hard for you, but please don't hate me for what I am." The plea felt unnatural falling from her lips, despite the fact that she meant it only as a way to regain his trust, a way to stay on track with her plan. "It's not as bad as you think," she reasoned. "So that woman wasn't bothering you, but think if she had been-she'd never bother you again. I can give you that-I can take away your troubles."