A Faint Recollection of Stars

A Faint Recollection of Stars: Meade’s Tale

Part One

I

looked around the circle of my audience and caught their eyes.

Magic, I said in a portentous tone and was rewarded with a soft Ahh... of wonderment.

Or perhaps it was just gas. Turnips are the major crop of Little Middle, with the occasional wild indulgence in a cabbage or two. I’ve survived on the same diet myself, plenty of times. Survived is the operative word. These folks were scrawny and I could see plenty of the deficiency diseases in their bowed legs and scabrous skin.

Magic, I said, louder, magic of the ancients, those mighty miracle workers of distant times and far off places, when the sky above, I gestured towards the invisible cavern ceiling above us and hid a smile as all the heads before me looked up as if worked by wires, was littered with scores and hundreds of blazing lights and bright glowing spheres.

I looked around.

Confused looks.

Ah, of course.

Roundy rounds. Shiny, sparkly roundy balls. I described with gestures.

Several nodded, but nowhere near all of them.

I sighed and went on. Magic filled those skies of old, and magic is still a part of our own existence. Magic is power drawn from beyond this world around us, drawn from the very depths of the outermost darkness.

I waited for another Ahh... but they disappointed me this time.

Heads lowered, they all stared at me through fringes of greasy hair. I kept a wary eye on the three hulking bruisers in the front row. They weren’t healthy, but they were better fed than the masses. The biggest one was Frando, the village priest and the other two were his brainless muscle, Barster and Arn.

Frando was closest to me. He stepped closer, his muscle flanking him as if they’d practiced the routine more than once. I’m sure they had.

Arn, the one on the left, showing off all five of his teeth. The other villagers began to drift away and huddle back, though they were all still watching me intently.

Well. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Now, good people, behold...the wonderment of the ancients! I said as I seized the red scarf covering the little table in front of me.

Instead of the small crystal globe full of water and lazily circling baby oarfish which had been under the red scarf, now there was...nothing but empty table.

Pretty good trick, I’ve always thought. This time, however, the reaction from the mass before me was not exactly the one I’d been going for.

An evil one! shouted Frando as he raised his stone pendant, holding it up as if it could protect him from the massive evil scary badness that was so obviously me. She has powers of darkness! She has sold her essence to the Pit!

And on and on. And on. You can fill in the blanks yourself. I’m sure you’ve heard the same. It’s always evil with a capital E if you happen to be able to do anything folks can’t explain.

Clarke’s Law: Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

Once, just once, I’d like to run across an open minded group who appreciate talent and years of practice. Just once I’d like to find villagers who didn’t think ‘other’ automatically equates with ‘bad’.

I sighed as I took one step, two steps back, waving my red scarf in a negligent way before I tucked it into a pocket.

Good people of Little Middle, I said, holding my arms up so that the sleeves of my robe fell down and all the tattoos on my arms began to glow yellow and orange—it’s a neat trick; remind me to tell you how I do it later, when I’m not being threatened and endangered. I am a magician of an ancient and fearful line. Stand well away, lest I call forth a mighty power to encompass you all!

Silence. They looked around. I looked around, with a lot more concern than theirs.

Nothing happened. No sound, no fury...no nothing.

The boys were late, as usual. I really think they do it just to see me squirm.

I did a quick grab at my belt then held my arms straight out to the side, threw my head back and shouted, Azazeelazney! loud enough to cover the faint sounds of tiny glass balls breaking on either side of me. I was standing in the center of the village, where they’d cleared away most of the native fungus down to the bare rock.

A flame leaped up to my right.

Evil! shouted Frando, rattling his pendant. The fire leaps from her fingers and does her bidding. She is evil and must be consigned to the Pit! Take her, good people!

The good people didn’t seem in much of a hurry to take me at all. In fact, they seemed a lot more interested in taking a walk, preferably in the opposite direction. Most of them began to retreat, as if they’d all at once remembered a collective and very important appointment way off on the other side of town.

But Frando and his two bullyboys came for me.

I did the only brave and logical thing.

I turned and ran.

Wahoommmm!

Finally. The boys were off their scrawny asses and on the job.

I chanced a glance over my shoulder and saw that most of the villagers had done the sensible thing when faced with loud noises and quaking ground: they’d fallen to their knees, hands over ears. Well now, this was more like it.

Then I saw the three big guys were still coming for me.

Running for your life gives you some mad skills.

Little Middle was so small it barely had skirts, much less outskirts, so it didn’t take me long to reach the last couple of stone huts. Beyond stretched fields of turnips, interspersed with shallow cesspits and fish pools.

I could hear the pounding of bare feet on rock behind me.

Stop, evil one!

I knew if I stopped, I’d likely end up the main course of tomorrow’s supper. And I hated the idea of sharing a pot with turnips.

Then someone grabbed the hem of my robe and jerked.

I fell, of course, trying to twist so I wouldn’t hit my head on rock or fall into a pit full of shit. I managed to land on my hip and shoulder instead.

You...might want...to rethink...this, I said, gasping for breath. I rolled into a protective crouch and made sure they could see my knives. If you...know how...to think at all.

Arn looked down in amazement at the line of blood that had suddenly appeared across his chest. The other two skidded to a stop.

Take the Evil One, Arn, the head man urged from his comfortable safe distance. Do not fear her powers, for we are the Chosen Ones of Ghool.

Dammit, they weren’t even out of breath.

Also, chosen or not, Arn wasn’t buying it. Who could blame him? After all, he was the one who was bleeding, though not enough for real danger.

Time to up the worry quotient.

Can Drool take poison away? I asked.

Ghool! shouted the head man. Do not blaspheme! Ghool is mighty!

Ghool’s Chosen, on the other hand, were stupid. They’d both crept up and stood in a straight line a few steps behind the bleeding Arn, Barster on one side of him, Frando on the other. I slid one knife back into its sheath and grabbed a triangle. I’m not as good at throwing them as the boys are, but I’m not bad. I flicked the shiny bit of metal and had another in hand before it reached its target.

Frando yowled in pain and fear. Barster turned to look at what had his boss screaming.

Distraction is ninety-nine percent of magic.

I tucked my weapons away and ran.

But I didn’t feel too comfortable running into what appeared to be an open corridor between slippery piles of rock.

Psst!

I took as deep a breath as I could manage in relief.

Finally.

Dar and New.

They must have circled around to cut us off.

Watch your step!

Just then, I saw a lighter strip against the dark rock. I was careful to step over it.

Then I slowed ever so slightly, to give the men behind me hope that I was tiring.

Actually, I was tiring.

We have her now! came a bellow.

Then more bellows, but no words this time.

I skidded to a stop and turned.

My three pursuers were a jumble of dirty arms and legs and fluent curses, everything tumbled together and trapped in the loops and whirls of a wire mesh net.

From somewhere above, I heard Dar and New giggling.

Part Two

If you’d listened to our advice... said Dar.

...which you never do, New interrupted.

New always interrupts. So does Dar. You might as well get used to it now; it’ll save you trouble in the long run.

...you’d have let us take care of the tricks, Dar finished.

They looked at each other and grinned. In the dim greeny light of the corridor, their freckles seemed to glow.

Dar bent his scrawny leg up and scratched the side of his neck with his right big toe. Sometimes I wonder if the boys even have bones.

You know how good we are at legerdemain... New began.

...you just like to do the fun stuff while we do all the hard work, Dar said.

I ignored them with as much dignity as I could, considering they were probably right. I did like to practice my sleight-of-hand, but the boys had me beat when it came to dexterity.

Cheer up, Meade...

...now we can go home for a while...

...cause we’re out of boom powder and...

...Granther will have a cauldron of soup bubbling...

...and you know how much you like his soup.

Suits me. I stuffed my robe in after it and hooked the bag on my belt. Robes with shiny silver embroidery are nice to impress the rubes but hard to travel in. I prefer my usual traveling wardrobe: sleeveless singlet, belt with hooks for bags, pocketed pants tucked into high boots.

We set off. It only took a little while for us to get to the end of the corridor and back into more open cavern. I didn’t recognize exactly where we were, since we’d originally arrived from a different direction, so I slid my reader out and dialed up the local map with reference to the spot where we’d first entered Little Middle.

Not reassuring. Blank spots. I don’t like blank spots. Of course, they’re bound to happen. Can’t expect every open cubic meter of Haven to be mapped, even after the human race—or what’s left of it—has been living here all this time. But there’s a lot of danger around and I like to know about it in time to be ready to run very fast in the other direction. I slid past the blank spots and looked for something that was on the map. An agricultural Loop station showed up, and I showed the boys. It would take some time to reach, and I was still a little winded from my run earlier, but I tried to set an aggressive pace as we set off.

After a while, Dar asked, You like those yokes...

...even when they try to kill and eat you, don’t you? New finished.

They both looked at me with identical inquiring twinkles in their eyes but their heads cocked in opposite directions. Mirror images.

Nah. I shook my head. But it’s a good thing for you two I don’t mind paying visits to backward areas, else I’d never have run across a certain set of irritating twins.

Are you...

...calling us backward again?

Cause if you are...

...you might want to consider that if we continue the way we’re going now...

...it’s going to take us twice as long to reach...

...the Loop station we’re heading for, and besides your feet hurt.

I sighed and changed direction. I confess, I had missed our turn, but that was no reason for them to remind me.

Hey, Meade?

Only one boy talking always shakes me out of my reverie. I looked around, noting we were once again off our path.

Yah, Dar?

I’m New, he said. Dar’s gone to look for a rope.

Very funny, I said at his little joke. They both kept threatening to tie a rope to me to keep me on course. And you’re not New, you’re Dar. I recognize your freckle pattern.

He shrugged and grinned. You got me. New’s gone on ahead in the right, correct and otherwise accurate direction. Maybe, anyway. We go this way, we think, so come on.

I followed Dar down a short path, around a hill and across a narrow rock bridge that spanned a deep defile with water trickling through the bottom. New was waiting for us on the other side.

She got lost inside her brain again, right? he asked his twin.

How could anyone, even her, get lost in such a tiny place? Dar asked, spreading his hands in fake wonderment.

Yo ho, I said as cuttingly as I could manage, seeing as how I sometimes suspected they were right. Where are we?

Seems to be a straight shot that way... Dar pointed.

...to that path over there, leading up a couple of levels, New said.

...which we need to get to... Dar again.

"...but