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  “I’m staying out of sight.” Anonemuss must have slipped on the ring of invisibility, for he was gone.

  “Heebie-jeebies! What was that?” Milan had been flung down by the wild motions of the ship and was now carefully seating himself in a chair.

  “It was a water elemental. A very powerful one,” answered Erik, Cindella looking back over her shoulder as if to check all was well.

  While Milan shook his head, seemingly troubled by how frail their ship had looked in comparison to the monster, Athena put the tracking device away. “No need for this anymore. Our man is right inside that volcano.”

  “Should we land?” Ghost wondered aloud.

  Cindella gave a shrug. “I don’t think so, not without an invitation.”

  Any doubts as to what they should do were soon resolved as a humanoid figure came rushing toward them through the air. All about his feet, the air was distorted and as he approached, it seemed to Ghost that the man was standing on top of a small whirlwind. The magical platform of air had to be strong, for the being who drew up a few meters away from them was large. While his mode of transport was strange, the man himself was even more remarkable. If you looked only at his fleshy, balding head, you would think he was a perfectly ordinary middle-aged man. But every visible centimeter of his skin was covered in tattoos: neck, shoulders, arms, fingers, feet.

  “Whoa, nice tats, dude. I take it those are perma-tats?” Milan had several perma-tats, but you could only just see the faded tip of one of them on his neck; his combat jacket covered up the rest.

  “Welcome, everyone. My name is Jodocus. Yes, indeed, Jodocus, the grand master of elementalists who was once a member of the Supreme Council of Myth! You’ve found me. Assuming, that is, you were looking for me? I know, I know—you need my help now. It was only a matter of time before you came begging for my aid. Who sent you? Anadia?”

  It was hard to understand the implications of this peculiar speech. Cindella looked at Ghost, who looked at Athena.

  “Hi, Jodocus. I’m Athena; this is Cindella, Gunnar, Milan, and Ghost. I’m afraid no one sent us. We are here to . . . um . . . There was this scout who came to our city, and we’ve followed it here. We want to know who sent it and why.”

  “Oh, my apologies. I assumed from this woman here”—he pointed to Cindella—“that you were citizens of Myth. But I see that you others are indeed people of another world. So you have found me inadvertently, as a result of trailing the ‘scout,’ as you call it?”

  “Exactly.” Athena nodded.

  “In that case, come inside. Let us share food and drink and exchange information in a civilized fashion.” There was something a little deflated about his voice now, thought Ghost. Somehow they had failed to give him the moment of triumph he seemed to have been anticipating. With a few gestures of his hands, the elementalist came a little lower and the distortion of the sky at his feet generated a breeze that plucked at their garments. The wind grew stronger as it spread in size, flattening the waves around the ship.

  “Step up beside me, please; it is perfectly safe.”

  Should they trust him? Ghost was unsure, but what else could they do? There was no point leaving the island without talking to this man, as they had nowhere else to go. At least the air was firm; it yielded slightly underfoot as she tested it, but no more so than sand.

  “Are we being supported by an air elemental?” Ghost asked.

  “Quite right, young woman. Have you any familiarity with the art of the elementalist yourself?”

  “I’m afraid not. I’m more of an airboarder.”

  “An airboarder?”

  “It’s a kind of sport.” Ghost turned so that Jodocus could see more of the board that was strapped across her back.

  “My goodness, how interesting. You’ll have to show me sometime.” He chuckled and waited for them to cross over from the ship.

  Gunnar was looking to Cindella to lead, Milan and Athena to Ghost. Closing her eyes for a moment, Ghost did her best to analyze the nature of the man in front of them and let her senses expand into the new and vibrant magical energies flowing around her. Was this another deception, like that at the pool? The air elemental was peculiar, all right, but neither it nor its master was hiding beneath an illusion of any sort. Nor could she detect anything threatening, except perhaps a coiled power within the body of the elementalist.

  Her hand on the swan’s wing, Ghost vaulted into the sky and felt the air catch her feet and push her up to their new host. One by one, everyone else did the same; a quick check of her environment allowed Ghost to confirm that Anonemuss was with them, too. The party set off up the mountainside, lifted by the platform of solid air beneath them. It was a shame to leave the swan ship there on the open sea, but Ghost had no idea how to get it to resume the size of a feather, even if such a trick were possible.

  The view from the mountaintop was like nothing Ghost had ever seen. With the sun almost at the horizon, the wide expanse of sea around them was a burnished and glistening crimson. She would have liked to sit for a while, letting the calm and the richness of the colors sink deep into her soul, but they were carried swiftly over the lip of the volcano and into its sulfurous-smelling hollow interior. Far below, there were tendrils of steam rising from a mist, which even at this distance felt warm.

  About a third of the way down was a balcony, ringing the entire hollow center of the volcano. As they drew nearer, Ghost could see doors leading from the balcony into the mountain wall.

  “Even though you are not elementalists, I’m sure that you appreciate the design. Here, not only am I hidden from my enemies, but I also have access to powerful sources for all the major elements and for several minor ones, too.”

  “It is the most amazing place I’ve ever visited,” replied Athena with genuine enthusiasm. Jodocus looked pleased.

  The elementalist did not seem to notice that Cindella had taken off her gloves, and Ghost appreciated the fact that Erik must now be looking at the stranger with the aid of the Ring of True Seeing. It was reassuring, for while this man seemed friendly enough, they couldn’t be sure of his intentions. Reassuring, too, was the quick glance Cindella gave over Jodocus’s shoulder, no doubt to where Anonemuss stood, invisible.

  “Come in, come in.” Jodocus stepped onto the balcony and opened a pair of large polished doors.

  The chamber beyond was remarkable, a testament to the dedication of the elementalist to his art. A curved stone outer wall, superbly crafted, as if by a team of the finest masons, contained a dozen tall windows looking out over the sea, each with wonderfully delicate arched lintels. Carpets, rich in texture and color, covered the floor, their slender patterns looking to Ghost like the words of spells. The entirety of the interior wall was lined with mahogany shelves carrying thousands of books and scrolls.

  “There are basically two types of wizardly libraries.” Jodocus strode around the room, gesturing to make his point. “One has pristine volumes carefully bound in matching leather, all shelved in meticulous order and kept behind glass. But this, I’m afraid, is the other sort: the library of a practical person, of someone who is more than a collector, of someone who is a true elementalist!”

  In other words, the place was a mess. Books lay in piles everywhere: on tables and chairs, on the floor, on cabinet tops; one large volume even rested across the top of a large china vase. Ghost looked at the two in the window seat nearest her: Exotic Thermal Prehenistae and Marrigmore’s Dictionary of Eclethes. The latter was filled with many scraps of paper boo-kmarking important pages.

  “Ah yes.” He had noticed her interest. “Marrigmore. Terribly underrated. In my view, there were few better practical elementalists. He really understood the business. It’s just a shame he couldn’t express himself more clearly.” Clearing a table, Jodocus gestured to the delicate and expensive-looking chairs around it. “Perhaps you would care to sit?”

  While they took their places, Jodocus removed the large book from on top of the vase. After he waved
his hands above the vase, a silver liquid flowed over the lip, gathered in a pool on the floor, and then drew itself up in the form of a featureless humanoid slightly shorter than Ghost.

  “Mercurius. Please bring our guests food and drink.”

  The strange liquid being bowed and flowed toward an adjacent room.

  “Now then. Where shall we start?” Jodocus joined them at the table, resting his fleshy body in a chair that seemed far too frail for him. “How about this. It seems to me that you are all sentient, intelligent people. Of the kind we call domini in this world. Would that be right?”

  “You mean, as opposed to the soldiers?” Athena answered.

  “Exactly, or insentient builders, farmers, servants, and so forth.”

  “Yes. We are all sentient.”

  “Good, good. Nice to be dealing with real people. Your turn.”

  Ghost looked at Cindella, who waved her hand in reply, indicating that Ghost should ask the first question. Of course, Erik also had the problem that as soon as he began talking, the elementalist would hear that his male voice did not match his avatar.

  “There is a portal, recently opened between this world and mine. What do you know about it?”

  “Nothing, I’m afraid.” For a moment Ghost thought that was all he was going to say, but then Jodocus looked up at her and continued. “If by portal you mean a gray tear in the fabric of space and time that allows people to cross between worlds, then I can say this. About two years ago, one of these appeared about a thousand miles to the northwest of us. Not long afterward, troops poured through it to effect a conquest of these lands—a conquest that, despite their loss of thousands of soldiers, has ravaged all our cities and towns, converting them to factories and farms.”

  “Death and destruction! That’s what we feared. And they’re coming for us next. Who is it organizing these invasions?” Milan had been slouching in his chair, but he sat up now.

  Jodocus held up his hand. “My turn. And in any case, I don’t know the answer to that question.” He turned to Ghost. “What world are you from?”

  “Saga,” she answered.

  “Ah. Saga.”

  “You know it?”

  “I’ll give you that extra question for free. Yes, I’ve heard of it. Saga was the first artificial world created by the humans of Earth. How very interesting indeed to meet some of its inhabitants. But”—he turned to Cindella—“you are clearly from a different world than the others here.”

  “Yes. Well, different from that of Ghost, Milan, and Athena. I’m . . . I’m from a fantasy world called Epic.”

  “My goodness. You are male?”

  “Well, yes.” Erik sighed. “Do you have humans in this world?”

  “Wait, Erik! Stop right there. Don’t say any more!” Gunnar leaped up out of his seat in his agitation.

  “Look, Gunnar, we need help, and I think Jodocus should know all that we know.”

  “No!” Gunnar stayed on his feet, quivering. “I don’t trust him. Just imagine him as another Dark Queen before you say another word.”

  The elementalist had observed this exchange with a rigid pose that suggested he was utterly attentive, like a cat watching a bird. Yet it was hard to read his face, which seemed remarkably placid under the circumstances.

  “So your question is, do we have humans in this world?”

  “Yes,” Erik answered, a note of wariness in his voice now.

  “We used to. I don’t think they have been here for decades, although individuals may have come and gone without my knowing. How does that assist you in answering my question?”

  “Well, Gunnar has a point; I don’t think I should say any more on that subject.”

  “How fascinating. How very, very fascinating.” Jodocus leaned back appraisingly. “Perhaps you’re all humans in avatar form? But since all the humans of Earth are reported dead, killed by the domini of Saga, you must be humans from a different world.”

  No one answered him, and it seemed to Ghost that the room had become colder. In the silence that followed, the silver servant returned with a tray on which were china plates of fruit, cuts of cold meat, glasses, and a jug of water.

  “Help yourself.”

  Milan didn’t hesitate, although Ghost, perhaps overly mistrustful, noted that the elementalist wasn’t eating. Feeling protective of Milan, she tried to discern what she could about the food in case it was poisoned, but it all seemed normal.

  “Our turn again?” asked Erik, and the elementalist nodded in reply. “When you met us, you said something about a supreme council. Can you say more about that?”

  “I can.” He waved a tattooed hand as he spoke. “It was the form of government we had here. The most powerful domini—wizards and sorcerers mostly—kept an eye on things and acted as judges in disputes. They ousted me, though, years ago. I was rather bitter at the time, but perhaps they did me a favor, because all the years they spent running around full of self-importance, building statues in honor of themselves, I spent here, perfecting my art and overcoming one of the great limitations of the elementalist.”

  Seeing that he had their interest, Jodocus rolled up his cotton sleeves, revealing more tattoos. His voice was proud. “Look closely. They are all bindings and in them are elementals.”

  “Classimundo. I totally want one of those. Could you make me one?” Milan loved his perma-tats, and Ghost could understand the enthusiasm in his voice. It derived from the fact that all the indigo trails on the elementalist’s skin enclosed spaces in which colored inks seemed to be writhing. Jodocus’s arms were steady, but his skin was in motion.

  “Perhaps, if we have time. But the significance of what you see is that I need not be in the vicinity of an elemental to summon it; I can release it from here.” He tapped his forearm. “Moreover, while most of my colleagues eventually succumbed to the projectile weapons of the invaders—despite their magic powers—my elementals protected me, deflecting all projectiles and preserving my life.”

  “Do you think there are many more of your council left alive?” asked Erik.

  “Oh, perhaps. One at least.” Jodocus was dismissive. “The birds that she commands tell me that Anadia would form an alliance with me to defeat the invaders.”

  Athena had eaten her way through a cluster of grapes and now had a question for him. “Why don’t you?”

  “My turn first, I think. Let me see. Ah, yes. Why are you here? I mean, at my island. What made you come here?”

  By way of an answer, Athena rummaged in her bag and withdrew the tracking device. “A scout came from this world into our world—Saga—and so we tagged it with a radio transmitter. We’ve been following it in the hope it would lead us to whoever is opening these portals.”

  “Oh dear. That was a good idea, and it might have worked, too.”

  “But?” Milan paused in his demolition of a pear, mouth still half full.

  “But I’m afraid I detected this rather interesting figure going up the new road in the opposite direction to all the soldiers, so I took it here to see what I could learn from it.”

  “The scout?” asked Gunnar.

  “Exactly. Your scout. Unfortunately, no sooner had I captured it than it switched itself off. All I learned was that it carried a weapon made of a curious material, a kind of hardened rubber.”

  Several voices spoke at once, asking about the direction the scout was traveling. Jodocus held up his hand again and they fell silent.

  “If you like, I can take you to the road and the rift he was undoubtedly making for.”

  “Yes, thank you,” said Ghost immediately. “We would appreciate being taken there.” It was their main goal, after all, to get to the people who were sending armies to invade other worlds and stop them before they attacked Saga.

  “I’m curious—why do humans care if a world they use merely for a game is taken over? What difference would it make to you? Might it not give you a fresh start in Saga that you would enjoy?”

  Again no one answered. J
odocus leaned back in his chair, which gave an ominous creak. “A moment ago, this young man with the tattoos and fine appetite”—the elementalist pointed to Milan—“exclaimed that it was likely that whoever conquered this world, Myth, will soon attack ‘us.’ I wonder whether this means that some of you, perhaps everyone but Cindella, who has a distinctly male voice, is a dominus, while ‘she’ is human.”

  At this, Cindella gave a very lifelike smile, then leaned over and offered her hand. “I’m not going to say anything about the others, but as you’ve probably already realized, I’m a human. My name is Erik.”

  “Welcome to Myth, Erik. It’s a pleasure to meet a human again after all these years.” Jodocus shook Cindella’s hand. “I wonder, are you able to reprogram these worlds that you humans once created? The people in it? Have you reprogrammed the others at this table?”

  Cindella snatched her hand away. “As it happens, I’ve no idea how to use the reprogramming menus.”

  “But you do have access to them?”

  “Isn’t it our turn for a question?” There was a touch of anger in Erik’s voice and Ghost wondered why. Was he angry with himself for giving this dubious stranger too much information? Or with Jodocus, for sounding a little like the Dark Queen, who had threatened to kill Erik’s family and friends unless he carried out some reprogramming under her direction.

  “Certainly.” Jodocus gave no sign of having noticed the sharpness in Erik’s voice.

  Cindella turned to Ghost. “Do you mind if I take it?” Ghost indicated for Erik to go ahead, so he addressed the elementalist once more. “Do you have any idea why humans left Myth?”

  “Yes. I believe they made a group decision after they learned about how the domini of Saga had annihilated the humans of Earth and they took the precaution of leaving Myth before similar events could arise here.”

  “So there are more humans out in the universe somewhere. There’s at least one other planet with humans. We’re not alone.” Erik was excited, and Ghost winced when she saw him glance at Gunnar. If the plan was to keep Gunnar’s identity as a human a mystery, Erik hadn’t stuck to it very well.