Ryk E. Spoor
patreon
Five-Year Special 3: Interlude with a Parallel
🕑 Added 2022-04-11 01:46:24 +0000 UTCThe third and final crossover idea that I've taken is to cross our heroes from Godswar with the world of Polychrome. Of the three, this is the one that really could have happened and would at most require only minor dialogue or thought tweaks in the published version of Godswar, as in Godswar: The Spear of Athena our heroes really are leaping from world to world with abandon.
So let's see what happens when Ingram, Urelle, Quester, and Victoria drop in on Erik Medon's world...
-----
Interlude with a Parallel
i.
The infinite streaming chaos of the Seal ruptured and they were once more spat out, sent tumbling across a hard, black surface. At the same time there was a screeching noise as of an attacking thornfalcon, and Urelle dug in her feet, controlled her tumble and came up facing the sound.
She found herself facing a large metal object, faced with glass, that was vibrating, having evidently stopped no more than two feet from her. Through the glare of sunlight on the glass, she could still make out the wide-eyed expression of the man inside. The object – evidently a vehicle, because she could see two wheels in the front, covered with some kind of tread – was rumbling faintly to itself.
"We must have dropped right in front of him," Ingram said, rising to his feet and dusting himself off.
And that sound was the skidding of his wheels on this road, agreed Quester.
Victoria stepped forward and nodded. "Apologies for what must have been quite a scare," she said, raising her voice so it could be heard within.
"A scare?Jesus, you people are lucky I was already slowing down as I turned into the driveway or you'd be paste," the person inside answered; the voice was somewhat muffled. The vehicle's rumbling faded to nothing, and after a moment, a door opened on the driver's side. "And what in the name of all Faerie are people like you doing here?"
As the man came fully into view, Urelle gasped, and all four of them said, with identical tones of surprise, "Wanderer?!"
The man was unmistakably the Wanderer; the same face, the same bright blue eyes and golden hair, and she now realized the voice, too, was identical. He was not dressedlike the Wanderer; he wore a simple black shirt with a colorful design involving some oddly-stylized people and bluish-colored pants, with black cloth shoes of some sort.
On second glance, he was not exactly identical to the Wanderer she knew; the mysterious wizard was slender, not out of shape but trained for dexterity. This man had far more powerful shoulders and arms, and his movements indicated someone with considerable combat training.
"Wanderer?" he repeated, staring at them. His gaze traversed the entire group, pausing especially on Quester and, she thought, on Ingram's weapon, the anai k'ota. "That is … not who I am." He paused. "But look, why don't you come inside; I've got a high fence but there are other cars that might come by and look up the driveway, and we definitely don't need more publicity right now."
Turning around, Urelle saw they were in front of a large house. It wasn't exactly of any design she knew, although it had some elements in common with Mick's world, she thought. It was cleaner than Mick's world had seemed to be, though.
Recently built, Ingram's thoughtvoice commented. The driveway's something the Founder called 'blacktop', and it's really new and clean. Whole house must have been constructed in the last few months. Pretty large.
Urelle wasn't an expert on construction, but her perceptions agreed with Ingram's. The white material that covered the walls of the house shone brightly, with scarcely a speck of dust. Windows were spotless and clear – and there were many of them, several open to the air. It appeared to be all built on a single level, not multi-floored, and spread out over an arc of about a hundred feet or more.
Their new host led the way into the house, carrying two bags full of what seemed to be food of various types. After traversing a short hallway, they emerged into a large, open kitchen; while there were several devices Urelle couldn't identify, the stove, hanging pots and pans, and other details were instantly familiar, if oddly designed.
"Poly? I'm home, and we've got company!"
When there was no immediate answer to his call, the man shrugged. "Okay, she's probably out on the grounds dancing somewhere. Lord knows she can use time to herself before the next part of this circus." He turned to them. "Okay, sorry, let's introduce ourselves. I'm Erik Medon, and this is my house, and you're lucky to have arrived at this house rather than just about any other. Most people would not react so calmly to giant insect-people. And you are…?"
Urelle took the lead this time. "I am Urelle Vantage, wizard and Adventurer-in-training. This is my aunt Victoria Vantage, Guilded Adventurer, and our companions Ingram Camp-Bel and Quester, also Guilded Adventurers out of Zarathanton."
At the last, Erik Medon's mouth dropped open and he stared at them all so intensely that Urelle felt herself blushing for no clear reason.
"Holy jumping Jebus on a rocket-powered pogo stick," Medon said finally. "You did say 'Zarathanton'? As in the great city of the Sauran King in the State of the Dragon-God?"
"Undoubtedly," Victoria said. "I admit it is surprising that you know of it… yet you do resemble, in uncanny detail, the Wanderer."
"I damn well should, I invented him," Medon said, still staring at them.
Now it was their turn to stare. "You what?" Ingram managed.
"Hold on, I've got to process this. This is crazy. I thought I'd already been hit with the biggest conceptual sledgehammer possible when Fairyland walked into my world, but this? Gimme a few seconds here."
"Erik? Are you home, my love? I – Oh, my!"
The speaker had frozen in the center of a nearby archway, and Urelle found it momentarily difficult to process what she was seeing, because the woman – almost a girl, seeming only a few years older than Urelle herself – had a beauty that dazzled. Hair that shamed gold in hue, confined only by a small cap atop her head, framed a face of impossible perfection, then flowed to outline and emphasize a figure equally perfect, only slightly concealed by diaphanous, flowing cloth so light it floated about the girl. Her wide, violet eyes were set off by the faintest set of laugh lines at the corners, and there was a faint but undeniable multicolored aura shimmering around her.
"Sorry, Poly, we have some… really really unique visitors," Erik said. "Everyone, this is Polychrome, Daughter of the Rainbow, Princess of Faerie… and my wife," he went on, then paused, staring at Polychrome with a disbelieving joy. He shook himself, then said, "And Poly, this is Urelle Vantage, Victoria Vantage, Quester, and Ingram Camp-Bel." He blinked. "Camp-Bel. Clan Camp-Bel of Aegeia, yes?"
Ingram nodded, apparently struck dumb by Polychrome. Urelle couldn't really blame him, she was having a hard time wrenching her eyes away from the Daughter of the Rainbow.
"Jesus. My mind's totally gobsmacked and I'm not sure how to process this," Erik said.
"Perhaps you might like to explain exactly what you meant by having 'invented' the Wanderer?" Victoria suggested.
"I dunno if I should." The Wanderer's doppelganger went to the cabinet, got out a bottle of some kind, and opened it. "Anyone want something to drink? Water of course, orange juice, cranberry-blueberry mixed, and I've got some cola and ginger beer. Those are carbonated – fizzy – drinks," he explained to them. "No alcoholic beverages in the house right now, though, neither Poly nor I drink them."
Most of them opted for the juices, though Victoria elected to try the 'ginger beer', which was what the Wanderer had been serving himself. Polychrome took a tiny cup of water, so small it seemed more suited to a baby, and seated herself on the counter next to her husband, who was on a stool near the sink. Quester elected to sit-squat in the manner of his people, while the rest of them sat like Erik on stools.
"Why shouldn'tyou tell us?" Ingram demanded once everyone was seated.
"Heh. That's the problem. I don't even know if I should tell you that." Erik pursed his lips, obviously thinking things through.
"Let him think," Polychrome said, when Ingram went to speak again. "It was that – plus his True Mortal nature – that let him defeat the Usurpers and save all of Faerie."
He looked up to her. "I could not have done any of it without you. In more ways than one." He kissed Polychrome, stared adoringly at her for a moment, then shook his head, pulled away, and then went back to thinking.
Finally, he took a deep breath and looked up. "All right. There's several possible ways this might work out, and I have to be careful in case it's one of the badways. So… hm. First, what are the four of you doing here?"
"Well…" Urelle glanced to the others, who nodded. "Do you know about Aegeia and her Cycles?"
"I do," he answered cautiously.
"Well, a false Ares is trying to disrupt the Cycle, and he's got the barrier up around Aegeia. We found that there's one possible way through the barrier, but we're having to… well, work around it while going through it, because it extends through all possible worlds. We think that barrier's made in sheaves of some number of worlds, and if we traverse an entire sheaf, we'll end up in Aegeia. So that's what we're doing."
"Hm. Makes sense from what I know about how Aegeia…" another of those pauses, "um, came about. You guys think you're up to fighting a god? Ares might not be the most badass of the gods – Chromaias or Terian or Kerlamion could beat him like a drum – but he's no pushover."
Victoria nodded. "We have reason to believe there is some form of prophecy that is connected to one of us, and we have other people – including the Wanderer – who have indicated that they believe if we do the right things at the right time that we could prevail."
"Okay." He squinted at them. "Victoria and Urelle… Wait. You don't happen to have a relative named Kyri, do you?"
"That's my sister!" Urelle said eagerly. "What do you know about her? She left us –"
"—to get vengeance for your brother's murder, yes," Erik finished. "Interesting. In my … knowledge, your last name was Ross, not Vantage." He blinked. "I wonder…"
He brought out a flat metal object that flipped open, showing a glowing screen similar to, though larger than, Ingram's ISNDAU device. He tapped on a set of buttons or keys in front of the screen for a few moments. "Ha! Yes, depending on the definition the two mean roughly the same thing, or can mean the same thing."
He put the device down and stood, began pacing. "All right. Here's the summary. If the Wanderer is the person I think he is… he represents, essentially, the distillation of all possibilities that represent … me. All the possible mes, from every choice I could ever have made, ever change in circumstances I could ever have encountered."
For an instant, Urelle felt dizzy, and she had a flash of a vision: the Wanderer as a younger man, wearing a camouflage-patterned uniform and firing a weapon; another of him, shivering in worn, tattered clothing against a wall as people walked by him, uncaring; the same young man standing on a stage in formal clothing, holding some sort of trophy; in a hospital bed, clearly near the edge of death; and more. Where did that come from?
Somehow she knew that what she had seen.. was something she had seen before, even though she could not say when or how. And because of it… "I… think you're right." The concept clicked. "And that's why he's immune to destiny! He's … all possible choices in one. Destiny requires there only beone choice!"
"That's the idea, at least in general terms, yeah," Medon agreed. "He's every possible me… except one."
"You?" Quester asked, though the answer was obvious.
"Actually… no, not me. Shouldn't be me. The one he isn't, I know who is, and they're not me, because none of them exist." He grinned at their confusion. "See, to me… these are all stories. Stories I invented about a world I made up – and not, actually, centered around ME, even though the Wanderer obviously is based on me. He was just one of hundreds of characters I made up and populated Zarathan with."
Victoria raised an eyebrow. "You are, somehow, not what I have pictured the Creator looking like."
A snort of laughter was the answer. "No, and I'm not the Creator, either. At least, I really don't think so, because then I'd know a lot more than I do. I think… I somehow tuned in to the truth, or parts of it, maybe because the Wanderer exists there." He frowned. "But that implies … ugh.
"Okay, you might start to see the problem. I know a lot about Zarathan – but not all of it is accurate. I got your names wrong, though close enough to recognize. Anything I tell you might be correct, mostly correct, or maybe completely off. So it's best if we don't talk about it much more. There's undoubtedly secrets you're not supposed to know until the right time. Maybe I know what your Ares really is – or maybe I THINK I do, but he's really something else in your 'real Zarathan'. I can't give you useful info, or at least I won't be able to tell the real deal from stuff I actually just made up, and some things I doknow you absolutely shouldn't."
After a moment, Victoria nodded. "I do believe I understand. Your version of Zarathan, whether drawn from dreams, from some… connection or not, is a reflection, or perhaps a shadow, of the true Zarathan. And we cannot know how that reflection or shadow is distorted."
"Shadow, indeed," Erik said, with the same lopsided smile Urelle had come to know meant that the Wanderer was thinking of some reference she'd never understand. "That's a succinct summation, yes. So, to your problem… can you find your next step out of here?"
"That's my job," Urelle said, straightening. "If you don't mind…?"
"Go ahead."
Urelle closed her eyes, felt around for the magic. By now she was used to the way that magic varied from world to world, so she ran through the gentlest tests of her power. Hm. Weaker than on Zarathan, but … yes, there is a Power here. Polychrome isn't just a fairy, she's something much more. Erik… Her eyes snapped open in startlement.
Erik Medon was simply looking at her, exactly where he had been. But when Urelle closed her eyes and concentrated again.. he simply wasn't there.
"What areyou?" Urelle said slowly, opening her eyes again. "When I pull up my magesight… you disappear!"
"Well, well. Works on your magic too. Interesting. I'm what they call a 'True Mortal' here – a human without a single trace of Fairy blood," he answered. "That means that I basically negate magic whenever I know it's being used and oppose it. I was thinking of making sure you didn't see anything you were supposed to; I guess that meant I just disappear to magical senses."
"Negatemagic?" Victoria said. "I have heard of very few beings that can do that naturally. Very few, and most of them are most unsavory beings."
"Like the Great Werewolves, I'd bet," Erik Medon said. "But I'm not like that. I specifically am immune to or negate magic. Not psionic power or ki or technological gadgetry; check that if you like, Ingram."
"A Great Wolf could choose how to present himself," Victoria said, and without warning hurled glittering powder in Erik's face.
"Ugh, thatwill take a while to get out of my clothes," Erik said, brushing the silver dust off his face. "But a sensible test, given how nasty the Wolves are. Now just finish your look around; we can always talk about me, and Poly, and Faerie, later."
Urelle closed her eyes once more, this time ignoring the gap where Erik should be standing, and reached out.
The rippling, churning, never-changing, ever-changing beauty of the Seal of Athena spun and danced in the distance. "There it is! About… two hundred yards that way." She pointed.
Erik squinted in that direction. "That'll put you… well, getting close to the interstate, if you're not on it." He noticed Ingram yawn. "But you all look pretty tired. Why not rest here tonight, and tomorrow you can move on?"
Victoria gave a little bow. "We accept your hospitality, if it is not a great imposition."
"Nah, we built this house to have enough room for guests. Just let me get some rooms fixed up…" He paused. "On second thought, Poly, why don't youmake up the rooms, I'll get dinner started."
"That is probably a better idea, love," Polychrome said with an apologetic smile. "I will learn your cooking eventually, but my magic does not seem to help much there."
"While you can just dance the bedsheets around easily. But no worries, we'll all learn what we have to."
"Come along, then!" Polychrome danced in front of them. "I'll show you your rooms and you can get comfortable before dinner!"
ii.
"… and when I did that, Amanita's spirit was basically cut in half," Eric finished, lingering over a piece of the ridiculously rich dessert he called cheesecake. "She'd pumped herself so full of pure magic by eating the Great Binding that my True Mortality cut her off from pretty much everything she was. She didn't feel it for a moment, so when she rose up to take another strike, I got to tell her 'omae wa mo… shinderu', and she came apart."
"What was that –"
He grinned sheepishly. "Means 'you are… already dead'. Like pretty much everythingin that battle, it was drawn from the fiction here, in that case an anime show called Hokuto no Ken or Fist of the North Star. Main character would use his special power on someone, they'd blink or laugh and say it didn't hurt, and Ken would say that line."
"So your power, combined with Ozma's, was to … manifest your imagination?" Quester asked.
"Pretty much. I mean, it could have manifested other ways, but that was by far the most flexible and powerful way for it to work for me, anyway."
"And that ended the battle?" Victoria was looking deeply impressed; the tale – told by both Polychrome and Erik – of a mortal thrust into a war far over his head, to become a Hero he wasn't sure was possible – was both familiar and thrilling.
"Mostly," Erik said, and a shadow of grief passed over his face. "I grabbed up Ugu, and I almost snapped his neck… but at the end I just couldn't, knowing I was using Ozma's power… and with her dead for my sake, I just couldn't bring myself to kill in cold blood in her name, either. Amanita was in the middle of a battle, but Ugu wasn't fighting any more. I could see… see he was readyto die. So I just dropped him and said I was done."
The shadow lightened. "Then Ozma's power burst out of me and wiped away the Usurpers' spell, brought the Emerald City back, broke the enchantment on all the Heroes of Oz. I was still pretty… broken up, then… but what happened then was that Ruggedo bowed to Ozma and refused to demand the price he'd asked… and so won the prize. Got his Magic Belt back, the power that a Ruler of Faerie has by right… and then promptly blew half of it to violate what I guess are real heavy rules of The Above and," he turned and looked with nigh-worship at the girl-woman next to him, "brought Polychrome back."
"And then," Polychrome said, returning the look, "Father sent his Rainbow and we all went to the Rainbow Kingdom and – at last – we were wed." She hesitated.
Erik laughed. "Go ahead, Poly. Tell them the last twist."
"Before I could let myself marry Erik, I had to tell him the truth – a truth I thought might turn him from me," Polychrome said softly, looking down.
I do not believe there is one Founder-damned thing she could have told him to make him turn, Ingram thought to her. Looking at Erik Medon, Urelle agreed.
"I had to confess to him that when I acted… I knew precisely what I was doing. And that even my dying words were judged very, very carefully, to make sure of the reaction I knew Father and the Pink Bear had predicted," Polychrome finished.
Urelle stared at Polychrome with startled new respect. She went deliberately to her death for the sake of her world… to make Erik into the weapon needed.
THAT is a very, very dangerous woman, Victoria agreed. "I gather that this did not change his mind," she said aloud.
"No," Erik said, taking Polychrome's hand. "Because all I asked her was whether she had lied to me. And when she said no, then I knew she loved me, and if she also was able to use that love to make sure I saved us all… I loved her that much more, I guess. My wife was never a damsel in distress, and if I was a Hero, she was at least as much a Hero."
They waited as the two exchanged the inevitable kiss, and then Ingram said, "so what are you doing back here? You were in Faerie, so…?"
"Erik convinced my Father that it was time for Faerie and the Mortal World to once more come together," Polychrome responded. "And that meant someone would also have to prepare the 'big Outside World', as Dorothy used to say, for the change that was to come."
"So we're doing just that," Erik picked up the description. "While trying to keep the wrong people from cluing in on us until it's too late. Tricky business when you've got like dozens and dozens of countries and no central group to talk to without some kind of standing. United Nations is the only thing even close, and you need to convince the right people first before you're going to get to talk in front of them. We're working our way up to the President here – figure we'll get to him soon. What happens after that… who knows?"
He noticed Ingram hiding a jaw-cracking yawn. "But you guys were tired before you got here, and here me and Poly were telling you the whole story of how we met. You must be exhausted."
"It was fascinating," Urelle said honestly. "But … yes, I'm tired. I think we all are."
"Okay, I think we're all ready for rest. See you tomorrow morning – we'll at least give you a good breakfast before you have to set off for your next big adventure!"
"Your hospitality is most appreciated," Victoria said, with a quick bow. "Then we bid you good night!"
"Good night!"
iii.
"This is really good," Ingram said, chewing on the smoked meat strips Erik said were "bacon" and savoring the fatty, sweet flavor. "You say you made it yourself?"
"Yep, smoker out back. Turned out to be easier than I thought, and the result's at least as good as store-bought."
"Well," Victoria said, pushing her way to her feet, "you have indeed given us a fine breakfast for the road… but we should be moving on, if Urelle is ready?"
While Ingram took the moment to start stuffing another strip of bacon into his mouth, Urelle nodded. "I'm ready. A good night's rest and some time in safety… that was all I needed. But… is there anything we can do for you?"
Erik shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Unless you're staying, there's not much you could do, and it's not like I need money any more. So I…" he trailed off. "Actually, there is… one thing."
"Name it," Quester said. "If it is reasonably within our power I am sure we would all give what you ask."
"You all come from Zarathan," he said slowly. "And Urelle is a mage. I guess… could you possibly show me? Let me see Zarathanton as you've seen her? The Khalals towering over Evanwyl? Aegis and the Camp-Bel compound? The Great Forest?"
Ingram recognized the longing in the older man's voice. Something he's dreamed of, and never thought he could possibly see. A Camp-Bel who had thought himself a failure had had a lot of those thoughts. "Urelle?"
"Why… of course I could. Image magic like that is easy, even here."
"And – pardon me for interrupting – these are … real images? Not illusions in the mind but anyone could see them?" Erik asked.
"Yes, they're real. Can even trick people into thinking they are real. You can make an illusion of a wall or bushes and if no one touches it, they can think it's real."
"Then just give me a moment." Erik ran into another room; in a few moments he came out with a tripod supporting a device that seemed to have a large lens at the front. He set it up, looked through something at the back, then nodded. "If you can just project anything you do here," he indicated a volume of space in the room in front of the device, "then the camera will record … everything."
"Of course," said Urelle. "So… Zarathanton."
Out of thin air, walls and towers shimmered into being, mighty walls five hundred feet high still dwarfed by the immensity of T'Teranahm Chendoron, the Dragon's Palace, crowds of a hundred species walking, talking, arguing as they passed through the gates. The image went with them, into the great City, passing storefronts and apartments and businesses, people having an impromptu tournament in the great square, finishing by moving up the northern road to the Dragon's Palace and through the mighty diamond-faced doors Ingram recalled as they entered the Throne Room to see the Diamond Throne of the Sauran Kings.
The vision paused there, on the glittering water-clear Throne atop the sixteen discs of varicolored crystals representing the Sixteen themselves, and then faded. "Evanwyl," Urelle said, and this time it was first the titanic, dark, brooding peaks of the Khalals surrounding Rivendream Pass, descending to show Evanwyl, with the Watchland's fortress and that of the Vantages, the fields and the homes and the Balanced Meal.
Ingram? Can you focus on your home? Show me what Erik wants to see?
Yes,he thought, a pang of homesickness suddenly sharp in his heart. Yes, I can.
The Aegeian Path was first, the steep-sided little mountain with the white steps that ascended it from landing to landing, far above Aegis, the beautiful white and brick-red buildings shining in the dusty sunlight of afternoon. The temples of the gods with their statues, noble Athena, mighty Ares, cheerful Hermes, brooding Hades with his Persephone lightening his burden, joyous Aphrodite and her adoring Hephaestus somehow reminding Ingram of Polychrome and Erik, and the others as the vision then blurred, returning to the precise, businesslike, military lines of the Camp-Bel compound, then lifted to see, in the harbor where ships moved in stately order to and from the docs, the great circular cliff-faced island of Kyriarcnis.
Ingram saw, then, Erik Medon's face, and the tears of wonder and joy sparked a determination to ensure they gave their strange host everything they could. Here, Urelle.
And he and Quester, and then Victoria, gave. The sparkling vista of the Ice Peaks, tens of thousands of feet of water-clear ice reflecting and refracting rainbows across the land; the vaulted might and beauty of Thologondoreave, the Cavern of a Thousand Hammers; the Sauran King himself, with Toron and Victoria in days obviously far past; the green-shadowed majesty and peril of the Forest Sea.
And at the end, the Wanderer himself, holding the Staff of Stars and conversing with Konstantin Khoros as they sought the solution the four Adventurers needed, and then their last hosts, Frederic of the White Robe smiling fondly at the immense bulwark of his husband and adventuring friend Druyar Salandaras.
Erik was on his knees, tears running down his face in a near river. "Oh, God. You have … no idea what that means," he whispered, his voice cracking.
"I believe we can see what it means," Victoria said gently. "It means so much to you, then."
"Polychrome," Erik said, still in that barely-audible voice, "saw what Faerie, what OZmeant to me, stories that had been a part of me since I was old enough to read. But these…" he gestured to the now-empty air. "These are parts of … of my soul. I imagined them, built them up – even if somehow I was also connected to that truth, I still worked on them, constructed the people and places, the magic they used, the designs, the words they spoke… and at the same time I knew I would never, never see them, not really, not as a part of me occasionally glimpsed them in a dream or inspired moments of game and writing. And now I have, and…" he shook his head. "My words are inadequate, and all I can say is thank you, thank you, thank you a thousand times for a wonder that even Faerie could never have given me."
He rose to his feet, Polychrome helping steady him, and wiped his face. "Well. Let's get you on your way, shall we?" he said, voice somewhat stronger and, Ingram thought, perhaps a touch embarrassed. We saw his heart bared in a way few ever do.
Following Urelle, they made their way across the broad, sparsely-forested area that Erik said was his land, then crossed a small stream and entered a somewhat denser band of woods. A periodic rumble-roar sounded ahead of them, and the little group stopped at the edge of the forest, peering out at a broad strip of grey pavement. Vehicles like Erik's, some far larger, some smaller, raced at impressive speed down this road, four lanes wide.
Following Urelle's gaze and, once more, getting a faint impression through his own senses, Ingram could tell that the Seal was in the center of the road.
"How long to open the Seal?" Erik asked. "And can you prepare most of it ahead of time?"
Urelle's mouth tightened. "I don't know if I can do it fast enough to keep from being hit by any of those machines. Even the occasional gaps in the traffic aren't very long."
Victoria was glancing around. "These vehicles are not armored, are they?"
"What?" Erik asked, startled. "No, not generally. Why?"
She pointed. "Urelle, that large tree. If you could make it look as though it fell across the road, scattering branches such that it covers the entire area…?"
"Oh! Yes, Auntie, I can do that, and if I time it right… they would stop, wouldn't they?"
"You better believe it," Erik agreed, and Polychrome nodded.
"I have seen far smaller trees bring such vehicles to a stop," she said.
"All right. Then that should work. I wait for a gap so they can stop without hitting the illusion, then make it look as though the tree fell. Then they will not come through until we have had plenty of time to go."
"At which point your illusion goes away and leaves a mystery," Erik agreed. "But that's fine. The world can use a mystery or three."
They went quiet as Urelle waited. After a few moments, she made a few gestures; the great tree trembled, then pitched sideways, coming to earth with a rushing, splintering crash that sent vibrations through the ground even where they were.
"That's illusion?" Erik asked incredulously. "You didn't just bring the tree down for real?"
"No," laughed Urelle. "As soon as I'm gone you'll see everything's back to the way it was. Now, we'd better go!"
"Just one minute," Erik said, and this time his voice was as deep and serious as ever the Wanderer's had been. "If I do have any connection with your worlds," he continued, "then I bless you with all I have. May you find a gloriousvictory against any foes you may face, and come to the happiest of endings."
Ingram felt a chill pass through him, and for an instant, he thought he saw somethingbehind Erik Medon… or many somethings.
"And the blessings of the Rainbow to you as well," said Polychrome. "Now go, before some of these mortals discover the illusion!"
The four of them bowed to their hosts, and then hastened across the now-deserted pavement. "Hold on!" said Urelle, making the gestures they were coming to know well.
And once more, shimmering, swirling vertigo took them all.
The End… for now.
