Essence of Chaos Read online

  Ghortin made a show of laboriously getting off the desk, then came and stood next to her. “He can be a bit much, even for a kelar, but I suppose he’s right this time.” Hands clasped behind his back, Ghortin circled her slowly, nodding occasionally in accordance with whatever was lurking in his head. Finally, he stopped and stroked his scruffy chin. “Let’s see if you’re going to be able to help me with this.” He laid his hands on either side of her head and muttered unintelligible words as he closed his dark eyes.

  A weak blue glow surrounded Jenna and a distant part of her mind began to wail in primitive fear. She pushed Ghortin’s hands aside.

  The wailing stopped as soon as contact with him was broken. The odd blue glow, however, flickered, but then held steady.

  Ghortin stumbled and backed into Storm. “My, my.” He rubbed his chin slowly again. “You have an amazingly strong, albeit latent, gift of Power. You could quite possibly become one of my most successful protégés. Except for one great mystery.” He paused, waiting for dramatic effect. When neither nudged him, he went on with a shrug. “The problem is that our lovely friend seems to be suffering from a massive, instinctive level, negative magic reaction.” At their blank looks, even Jenna’s memory-echo didn’t have a comment about that, he added, “You instinctively block magic from working through you. I’m sure we can find a way around it, however.” He gave a low chuckle. “I’ve never heard of someone so strong or so sensitive without training. That low-level spell shouldn’t have triggered anything at all.”

  “Can you speak Common now?” Storm stepped around Ghortin.

  “Ah yes, my young, oh-so-uncurious friend, she speaks Common now.” Ghortin stepped forward, blocking Storm and cutting him off. “Actually, my dear, you speak your own language in your head.” He tapped the side of Jenna’s still stunned head. “But it will come out in our language, or rather the most basic of our languages, Common. Quite an intriguing, yet simple spell. H’song first created it nigh on 2,000 years ago. It was then—”

  Storm stepped around the now pacing Ghortin. “Please say something, anything.”

  “What should I say?” The words still sounded English to her.

  “Thank the stars. Now we’ll find out how you got in that ravine.” Storm smiled.

  A twinge came from her ankle. “Do you think you could put some more of that bane stuff on my leg? This is great with the blue light, and you being able to understand me now, but this hurts.”

  Ghortin flushed with embarrassment. “My dear lady, I did go off and forget that ill leg of yours, didn’t I?” He bustled back to her side. “Oh, and you can drop the mage light you know, just relax and let it slide away.” He waved Storm forward as he headed for the desk.

  “Now, you oaf, carry her to the desk, I’ll need more room.”

  Storm didn’t argue as he lifted Jenna onto the desk, but he backed away afterwards with amazing swiftness.

  The sight of someone his size, and with his collection of well-used weapons, being so cowed by a desk, albeit an odd one, was enough to take Jenna’s mind off her pain.

  “Why are you so terrified of this desk? I don’t think I’ve ever seen one move around before, yet you don’t see me going all pasty faced.” Jenna gave the desk an affectionate pat.

  Storm went from green to white to red as Ghortin stepped forward. “There is quite a good tale behind that. It all started when Storm here was just a skinny kelar child.”

  “Her leg needs to be looked at,” Storm snapped. “And we have things to talk about.”

  “Of course we do. We have to hear this good lady’s tale.” Jenna thought she caught a shared frown between the two, but then Ghortin was all smiles. “First, how would you like to hear about young Storm and the desk?”

  “Actually, I’ve still got dinner to bring in. I won’t be long.” Storm cut in as he headed for the previous location of the door. The outline flared as he stepped forward. He was out the now visible door before Jenna had a chance to speak.

  Ghortin grinned as the door faded behind Storm. “I figured that would clear him out. Now, would you rather hear about my illustrious life or Master Storm’s fear of the bewitching desk?”

  As he spoke, Ghortin lifted her injured leg. Jenna didn’t feel any pain and wondered if he had numbed it at some point when she wasn’t looking. With a quick movement he lifted her off the desk and lowered her feet to the floor. She gasped when the ankle held without pain.

  “How?” She tapped forward with the formerly injured leg; there were no twinges, no stabs of pain. “This is amazing. Wasn’t it broken? How did you do that?”

  “All in a day’s work.” His smile was so smug Jenna was certain he often found use for it. “Now, how do you feel?”

  “My leg feels great. But my head is another thing.” She paused, unsure of how exactly to explain the weirdness that had been flitting through her head since she woke up in that ravine.

  Ghortin frowned as he tilted her head around, looking for any external wounds. “You damaged your head? Something should have been said earlier.”

  “I didn’t hurt it.” She took a step back. “Well, maybe I did. I honestly don’t know. It’s like I have two sets of memories.”

  “Two?” He helped her back up on the desk. “Why, lass, even I only have one, and I’ve lived for quite a long time, let me tell you.”

  “I’m not explaining it right.” She chewed her lip. She couldn’t explain it to herself, so how could she explain it to someone else? “Okay, just now, when you fixed my ankle. I know you couldn’t have done it. It was broken, and I know, unfortunately, how long it takes to fix a broken bone. And I know magic is impossible. At the same time, something in my head wasn’t worried. It accepts that magic exists just as easily as I accept that credit cards exist. It knows you fixed my leg with a spell.”

  The mage laughed. “Of course magic is possible. You carry a great potential for it.” He paused. “Do you mean to say that some strange force is making you disbelieve in magic?”

  “I don’t know how else to explain it.” Jenna looked around for some sort of visual aid, but found nothing. “The other voice is the part that believes in magic. And kelars. That part isn’t me. It shouldn’t be here.”

  “No kelars either, eh? I’d say someone put a monster of a spell on you, except there’s something else that I just can’t pin down.” His eyes lost focus for a moment, and then snapped back.

  “No good, your magic block hinders my search.” He pulled one of the chairs closer and sat down. “Why don’t you tell me everything? Start with the non-magic memories, then move on to the other voice? Echo?”

  Jenna nodded, that was a good description. As if someone had left messages for her in her head, but it was supposed to be her voice. “My name is Jenna Reilly; I’m 27 years old…” She paused, something was coming back, something important, but it stayed just out of reach. “I know that there’s no such thing as magic and that Storm can’t be what he seems to be.”

  The safe cocoon that had been soothing her fears of not belonging in this place was fading. “I know I’ve never seen this dress in my life and I can’t imagine picking it out, let alone wearing it with a pair of jeans. And my hair is odd too. I haven’t seen all of it yet, but it looks way too long; it was only to my shoulders. But now?” She waggled the end that clearly went five or six inches past her shoulders. “My hands and arms look wrong, and my body feels odd, but I can’t describe it. And my eyes are gray.”

  “I can’t say anything about the rest of what you’ve said, but I’ll agree with you there.” There was confusion in Ghortin’s dark eyes, but curiosity was rapidly winning out.

  “Storm said they were brown when he found me.”

  “That is odd.” He peered closely into her eyes, “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of eye color changing on a whim.”

  “I feel mismatched.” There was no other way to say it.

  Ghortin took out a quill and paper from the desk. “Now what about the second voice?
The one that accepts magic is real?” He shuffled his papers around, muttering about his missing inkwell. After a moment he sighed and reluctantly placed the quill back on the desk.

  “It’s not exactly a voice. It’s more as if I recognize things, things that I know I’ve never seen before. As if someone left their memories in my head but kept most of the details to themselves.”

  The blood drained from Ghortin’s face. “Mindslaves.”

  The word meant nothing to Jenna, but her strange mental echo recognized it. It didn’t clarify the term, but it chilled her blood.

  “Like that. The echo, or whatever it is, recognized that word. But I have no idea what they are.”

  “Victims of the worshippers of Qhazborh.” He wet his lips. “Their minds are slowly sacrificed to give Power to their god, then to his priests and priestesses. However, if you’re here you can’t be a mindslave. You would be dead, not running around the countryside. Besides, the followers of Qhazborh have faded into small pockets of disgruntled hermits; even their most devout don’t follow the old codes anymore.” He patted her hand and tried to smile. “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

  Jenna shook her head as more of her thoughts became clear. “I know I’m not a mindslave, whatever that is. I’m from Los Angeles.” She gave a feeble laugh. “Although, from what they sound like, there are those who would debate the difference.”

  “What?” Ghortin pulled himself out from wherever his mind had wandered to and turned back to her. “You’re from Losangeles, rather odd name for a town, don’t you think? Was it named after someone famous?” He held up a hand. “Never mind. Although I do think that I have a dissertation on the followers of Qhazborh around here somewhere.” He scurried over to the other end of the library.

  “Ah-ha.” He raised a thin red book high in the air, ignoring the shower of dust he got in the process. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve been able to find, er, that is, since I’ve needed this particular book.”

  He nudged her over to one side of the desk. “Come, come, there’s room enough for both of us atop this mammoth.”

  “I’m sure this is extremely interesting,” Jenna said with growing discomfort, “but how is this going to help me figure out where I am or what happened to me?” The soothing feelings of recognition she’d had were almost completely gone now. Reality was setting in, and it wasn’t looking pretty.

  Ghortin finally forced himself to look up from his book. “My dear, you are in my forest, which is located two days’ ride outside of the city of Lithunane, the capital of the kingdom of Traanafaeren. I’m certain that with time we’ll be able to reverse the mind draining, if that’s what it was, and get your sweet little head back in order. However, I don’t believe that I’ve heard of your hometown. Is it in Traanafaeren?”

  Jenna slammed his book shut. “Look, I’m not a mindslave. I’m from California, in the United States of America, on the planet Earth, which I am now damn sure is nowhere near Tranafar-whatever.” She was shaking and couldn’t stop. “I’m not from here!”

  As she shouted the words, the enormity of what she said hit her like a slap in the face. She was in another world. Either that or this was a delusion. No, it wasn’t a delusion, it was far too real. How in the hell had this happened? What in the hell had happened? Her breath started coming in short bursts as panic and terror slammed into her mind.

  “Oh my god,” her voice dropped, but the shaking grew worse. “I’m not from here.”

  “My dear?” There was worry in Ghortin’s eyes, and he took her hand gently, patting it like one would a small child. “Maybe I can help. Planet Earth? United States? If you could just give me something tangible to go on—”

  “Eight planets. There are eight planets in our solar system, or nine…never really happy they took Pluto away.” She wasn’t sure why she cut him off with that bit of information, but he’d wanted something more to go on. Besides, her brain didn’t seem to be working right.

  “Eight or nine, you say?” Ghortin kept rubbing her hand, clearly worried about her. Actually, judging by his expression, Jenna figured she must look raving mad. With a faint smile, Ghortin continued. “I’ve only counted six myself; mayhap your people have better equipment. How many moons do you have?”

  “One, of course.”

  “There we have it.” Ghortin jumped off the desk. “You are from another world. You see, we have two moons.”

  As he spoke he conjured up an image of the outside against the wall with the invisible door. The sun was giving way to a pair of bright golden moons. Moons that she’d missed seeing in the dense forest last night.

  “We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.” The view of moons cinched what her mind had been telling her for the last ten minutes. She fought to keep from hyperventilating.

  “Kansas? Is that another land you’re from?”

  “No.” She rubbed the side of her face, jerking back when she hit some of the too long hair flowing over her shoulders. “It’s just a saying where I come from. This couldn’t all just be a dream, could it?”

  “I assure you,” Ghortin puffed up his considerable chest. “I am not a dream. A nightmare to some perhaps, but that is another matter entirely. Somehow, you managed to leave your homeland and come to ours.” How he was so calm stating that horrific fact, she had no idea.

  Jenna liked an orderly life, anxiety attacks had been a part of her life until she realized that keeping life slow and steady made them go away. This was too far away from slow and steady to even contemplate. “I’m in a strange land, with strange pointy-eared elf men, magic, a bunch of memories that aren’t mine, a body that doesn’t seem to be all mine, and you tell me that I’m not dreaming?” She forced her breath to slow down again.

  “Easy, lass.” He rubbed her shoulders. “Never fret, you’ve got a strong supporter in young Storm. Even if he is—” He pulled back and tilted his head. “What was it you called him? An elf man? And what of myself? You happen to be in the care of one of the foremost mages in the known world, I’ll have you know.”

  Jenna sat there until the shaking faded and the feeling of loss worked its way out of her system. Rather, she was able to shove it into some dark corner to be dealt with later. Eventually she felt more like herself, or at least like the self she had been for the past day. “I’m sorry; this is all so strange.” Which was the understatement of the decade, but about as good as she could do right then.

  At some point Storm returned, but he silently hovered at the edge of the room.

  “Never mind, my dear; you’ve obviously had a great trauma. We’ll make sure that you find your way in this world, never you fear.” Ghortin motioned Storm forward.

  Jenna noticed that Storm’s eyes widened at that comment, but Ghortin shook him off with a quick frown.

  “But what will I do?” Jenna laughed weakly, thinking about the primitive equipment Storm had been using. “I don’t have any job skills for this world.” Which was true for her own world in a way. She collected college degrees the way some women collected shoes, but she still hadn’t found a career she could live with.

  “No skills?” Ghortin held her out far enough to get a clear look into her eyes. “My dear, you jest. Your mage potential is quite high, surely you knew that?”

  “How could I know something like that when there’s no magic where I come from?”

  “Now then, I didn’t realize your entire world was without magic. However do your people live?” Ghortin shuddered. “That’s a tale for later, I believe. Magic-less though your world may be, you are a virtual well of Power; untrained of course, but it’s there. The only sensible thing to do is for you to become my apprentice. You’re a bit older than most, but I do seem to be without one at the moment.”

  Jenna opened her mouth to argue, and then shut it. What else could she do? Tendrils of panic worked through her mind. Strange world, no skills, and no way to survive? If Ghortin was willing to help her find a way to survive here until she could find a way back hom
e, she had to be willing to take it.

  Ghortin took her silence for agreement and propelled her toward the door. “First, I think you need rest. We’ll bunk you down and see if some sleep doesn’t sort out that head of yours.”

  “Thank you.” A yawn hit her hard. Must be the changing world thing, bound to tire a person out. She was happy that Ghortin appeared to believe her story. She wasn’t sure if she believed it herself, but it was nice that someone did. “Do you have any idea what is causing this weird echo in my head?”

  “Alas, I’m afraid that I don’t. Not as of yet anyway.” Ghortin held up a dusty book. “But with these we shall find the answers, I assure you. As well as solve the mystery of your arrival here.”

  “Do you think we might be able to send me back?” She hadn’t intended to ask that, the answer could shatter her current control over the panic.

  “Ah, child, I honestly don’t know. I can promise that we shall try.” He nodded toward Storm. “Now come along, we must find a suitable room for you.” He led the way down the hall.

  Ghortin stopped in front of a doorway that wasn’t there a minute before, then motioned for her to go in.

  Jenna sat down on the small cot that took up most of the unremarkable room. Actually, it could have been the most remarkable room in the world; she was too tired to care. She just meant to rest for a bit, but quickly fell asleep.

  “Now that she’s gotten herself settled, what say we go back out to the front room?” Ghortin didn’t wait, and briskly walked down the hall.

  “Settled?” Storm shook his head. “She was out as soon as she lay down. And of course you had nothing to do with it.”

  “Just a slight nudge, she was exhausted.” Ghortin turned back with a grimace; there were far too many questions about this woman. “Which wasn’t easy with that damn block in place. We’ll have to work on that immediately, or we’ll never get anywhere.”

  They continued down the hall toward the vortex, and Storm’s sigh of relief at exiting the vortex was more audible than usual. Ghortin was glad he moved to get Storm out of the displaced area and on this side of the vortex quickly; his friend had never liked the undefined space beyond the vortex, but this time there was more than that going on.