Aces and Eights page 16
Harvey Smith
I regarded the ash-filled fire pit occupying the center of the room. It was about three feet across and appeared to be quite shallow. Rough, dark pieces of rock, raised a couple of inches higher than the smooth stones of the floor, had been set into its border, forming a ring. Aiming carefully, I tossed my acorn. It landed a few feet short, then rolled to the left side. Internally, I swore. You will have to believe me when I tell you that it is harder than you think to hit a target with a thrown object while ninety percent of your body is completely immobilized.
I reached down for another empowered acorn. I had four remaining. Upon casting the second small missile, I was able to gauge the distance more accurately and my acorn landed near the center of the fire-pit, kicking up a small cloud of dusty ash. When the cloud cleared, I saw that only a small portion of the acorn remained uncovered. For the next few seconds, I watched closely, suddenly unsure whether the ash would be sufficient to activate the magical acorn. Only twice before had I ever even used any of the things and on both occasions, I had deposited them in natural soil. Even as I began to worry, though, I detected a small movement within the powdery gray pit.
At first, the effects were minimal. A single green shoot rose upwards, then was still for a moment. As I watched, however, this tender plant rapidly grew into a small sapling. From that instant forward, no more pauses ensued. The sapling grew smoothly up and out. Leaves unfurled along its branches and some of its more unruly roots slithered up out of the fire-pit and across the floor. Before long, the tree exceeded my height. It was then that I began to hear the first splintering sounds. The unnatural oak's root structure, I knew, was spreading itself between the flagstones. More cracking sounds, louder, split the air. A wailing began to rise, accompanying the growth of the oak.
As I watched the growing tree, I saw that the floor seemed to be buckling in places. Flashing rapidly into and out of visibility several times before flaring into complete substantiality, the wheel design revealed itself. Again, ink colored flames sprung up at its border and the symbols I had seen before shimmered into being all around me. The oak tree now towered within the room, its upper branches having flattened themselves out against the high vaulted ceiling. The wail was much louder. The ring of dark stones bordering the fire-pit had been broken in places by the tree's swelling base.
With a deep whooshing sound, the wheel's central column of indigo flame rose up around the lower trunk of my tree. The bark, wherever touched by the mystical fire, grew black. This appeared to slow the growth of the tree, but did not halt it. Wide cracks broke open in the floor, and raced in zig-zag patterns toward the far walls. Thick, knotted roots pushed up from beneath the floor. The wheel flickered a few times and each time it did, I was shaken violently. Upper portions of the tree snapped off against the ceiling and limbs rained down around me along with bits of broken masonry.
Second later the flames around the wheel snuffed out and the designs faded. I fell to the shattered floor, free from the spell. I lay panting for a few seconds, my body tingling as life and mobility returned to it. Then silence filled the room; the oak had finally reached the limits of its growth. Raising myself, I studied my surroundings. The damage was tremendous. The floor looked like a field of rolling gray hills and the massive tree dominated even the room's uppermost reaches.
Knowing that my enemies were probably moving toward me, I turned and darted from the room, mouthing a quick word of thanks to Yggdrasill, that great ash at the center of the cosmos. Without delay, I headed into the nearest side passage.
* * * * *
When I finally stopped for a breather, I found myself in a wide hallway that continued on for a short distance before curving away out of sight. I stepped into an alcove there, across the hall from a window, and leaned against a multicolored tapestry. Looking beyond the window, I saw that the sky was a weird swirl of lemon and black. This seemed to confirm my suspicion that Merequist's home existed within multiple Shadows. The tower I had initially entered was probably only one of numerous entrances.
Below the exotic sky, lying like great gray tumors on the skin of the world, I could see several sprawling sections of the place I occupied. A blind dome (windowless, doorless) lay half buried upon a broken field of slate. Stretching out from the dome were four wandering structural wings. I could see one part of a monstrous wall that looked to encompass the entire place. Nothing moved.
Pulling my gaze away from the scene beyond the window, I rubbed my legs, trying to work out the soreness brought on by my recent paralytic condition. Unsure of how long I had before someone found me, I used the time to think through my alternatives.
A few minutes later, having alleviated much of the stiffness in my muscles, as well as my indecision, I reached for my set of Trumps. I had decided that it was time to call in reinforcements. Sorting rapidly through my cards, I selected Luke's and concentrated.
The painting on the card showed a clean-shaven, red-haired man, smiling a friendly (yet somehow conspiratorial) smile. In the picture�a self portrait�he wore a green riding cloak, hood up, and fastened by the prized phoenix, no less. Snow-covered hills stretched out at his back.
The colors swirled and suddenly his image�his presence�grew to fill the space before my mind's eye. "Nigel. Good to see you again." Dressed in a brown shirt with billowing sleeves and a black vest, Luke stood before a large bronze bell. I did not recognize the scene. His gloved hands rested upon a stone railing and I could see that he wore a slender, slightly curved blade at his hip. He had grown a beard since the last time I had seen him, too.
"Hello. How are things on the home front?"
"Our problems have been resolved. Several days ago, in fact. I'm no longer in Kashfa, though; I'm taking a short break in a fast Shadow." He looked to his left, waving and smiling at someone before turning to face me again. "How goes the chase? Having fun?"
I exhaled. Pleasantries over, it was time for my report. I wondered where to begin, which parts to skip, which to elaborate upon. Noticing my hesitation, he grinned. "If it's all that complicated, why not come through to me? We'll discuss it over lunch."