Viola slept deeply
and yet she still dreamed.
She was standing in an orange grove in the middle of a hot summer’s
day. There were orange trees everywhere but none of them had any fruit. This
was strange, as it seemed exactly the right season for the oranges that grew in
the more sheltered groves south of Ortia. The smell of citrus filled the air
and Viola felt strangely intoxicated.
A young elf maiden was approaching her, dressed in a green so similar
to the green of the foliage that she seemed at times to blend in to it, an
effect accentuated by her deep chocolate brown skin. Viola had never seen a
Southern Elf in the flesh before, but that was evidently what she was –
presumably from the tropical forests in the West.
As the stranger approached Viola she smiled and held out her hand. Not
knowing what else to do Viola touched it. It was only then that the stranger
seemed able to speak.
‘Are you lost, captain of Ortia?’ she said in Archaic Elven.
Viola was confused. A part of her knew that she was asleep, and she
wondered how her dreams were suddenly so fluent in the Old Tongue. She
stammered, tripping over words that she had only ever learnt at school.
‘I don’t know…where … are we?’
The stranger smiled and turned away. She began to walk silently through
the grove.
‘Who are you?’ shouted Viola,
lapsing back into Visneorian. The stranger made no response and so Viola ran
after her feeling that it was very important that she kept up. From behind she
heard a strange rustling. The stranger moved on through the continuous green of
the grove.
Out of the corners of both eyes she could see a fuzzy movement – she
was torn between watching the stranger so as not to lose her and turning to see
what was causing the commotion.
Eventually the stranger stopped and looked back at Viola.
‘What are you looking for, little one?’
‘I look for fruit, I am thinking’ Viola faltered over the words, ‘I’m
sorry, I do not speak well’
‘Well enough’ said the stranger, looking back out over Viola’s
shoulder.
Viola suddenly felt a sense of dread – what was that making the
rustling sound behind her? She froze on the spot, unable either to move on or
to turn around. The stranger stared out into the space behind her,
expressionless.
‘Should I look behind?’ asked Viola
‘Yes - If you want to see what is to come’
Viola turned. Every orange bush that she had passed was now covered
with insects, of all different colours and shapes: locusts, bugs and
caterpillars. One by one they were stripping the plants bare.
Viola gasped and ran on.
‘Are there no fruits in this grove?’
‘Yes, there is one – but to find it you must follow me’
The stranger rapidly shifted shape, first condensing into a green
sphere and then reforming into a tiny humming bird. The bird flew off very
fast. Viola stumbled on after it as it darted from bush to bush, fearing at any
second that it would fly off forever.
The bird flew on and on for what seemed like hours, with Viola,
endlessly fatigued but animated by the power of dream physics, ran on after it.
Eventually it stopped at a tall bush, so green that the bird disappeared
completely within its leaves. All that Viola could see was its long, yellow,
slightly curved, beak. The beak tapped
three times on a leaf and then spat out a seed, which rapidly expanded to form
a large juicy orange.
The stranger transformed herself back into her elf form. By now they
were surrounded by the insects, which were moving inexorably towards the bush
with the only orange. Viola looked
imploringly at the stranger.
‘Eat’ she said, picking the orange and handing it to Viola. By the time
Viola had received it seemed to have changed, so that its peel was gone and she
could bite into it quite easily. When she had bitten though, there was no
taste, just a strange deep ringing sound.
The stranger stood smiling and now Viola could see her tongue – long
and forked as it slipped in and out of her mouth. She hissed, but the hiss was
not harsh and cold, but warm and beautiful. She spoke as the ringing reached a
crescendo.
‘Does it not it sound so clear and so sweet? Have I not made it well?’
Viola smiled
‘Would you fane hear it again?’
Viola nodded.
Ophia gave her the secret words.
***
While Viola
slept Kath and Hardacre examined the papers from cover to cover. Then they had
climbed all over the Autelephas, tapping and probing every part of it with the
Dwarven Magic rod. After that Hardacre had even resorted to some simple
diagnostic magic; the sort of magic that most witches dislike casting. By the end of all that they were able to make
a fairly comprehensive oral report.
‘It’s not working’ said Kath.
Fred screwed up his eyes and stared at it,
‘As I thought’ he said, ‘it’s a bloody big conversation piece’
‘What’s it for?’ asked Potentilla
‘It’s a war machine’ said Hardacre, ‘but it seems to be tuned into
particular life energies’
‘We couldn’t work out which, exactly’ continued Kath, ‘but we assume
that it’s something that can be used again the Tlaxacans’
‘The trunk appears to be designed to hold an object and then the tusks
are hollow and a magical force can be extruded from them on to the object’ said
Hardacre.
‘Like large god-thing’ said Rem, ‘in white cloak.’ It wasn’t a
question.
Kath and Hardacre nodded at once and then Kath added, perfunctorily.
‘That’s one hypothesis’
A buzz of fear and excitement spread through them. Potentilla almost
jumped up and down with the wonder of it all.
‘It’s a device to kill Whitecloak! Isn’t that just what we need?’
Kath blinked at her. Potentilla blinked back as if it were some kind of
private code. Kath looked away.
‘Yes. But, as we said, it doesn’t work’
‘Can’t you fix the bloody thing, Kath?’ asked Fred, ‘aren’t you a
“world expert”?’
Hardacre spoke for Kath.
‘It’s not a matter of Dr Fielding’s skill, Dr Eccles. The power supply
is missing’
‘Missing?’ asked Potentilla, ‘where is it then?’
A very brief look of pain flitted across Hardacre’s face.
‘I think that it is back in my master’s house in Kinspit. It’s a scroll
– a scroll that we’ve always called the Quiena Scroll’ his voiced dropped to
just a whisper, ‘It has an illustration of an elephant on it that looks just
like the Autelephas’
‘Let’s get your master to bring it over then’ suggested Potentilla, in
a tone that implied that the scroll was being kept just down the road.
‘I have’ said Hardacre very
carefully, ‘I’ve sent several mail papers. But I’m worried, I haven’t heard
anything from him for days’
‘Why don’t you do it then?’ asked Potentilla
‘Sadly I may not have the power to teleport back and return immediately
without Mr Ismay’s help’ said Hardacre, ‘and I can’t countenance leaving you
for even a few days’
‘You’ll keep trying to reach him, then, boss?’ said Potentilla, ‘this
may well be really important!’
‘Yes’ said Hardacre, very patiently, ‘I will’
All eyes were now on the Autelephas. Rem stood up and walked over to
it, touching its trunk and tusks and frowning.
‘Where goes the scroll?’ he asked
Kath climbed up to the seat on top of the elephant and pointed at the
glass table in front of it.
‘Here’ she said, ‘this seems to be the only conduit for energy into the
elephant, and so almost certainly where one would need to put the scroll’. They
all craned their necks to see.
‘Why you have scroll in Kinspit?’ asked Rem, still stroking a tusk and
staring over to Hardacre.
‘We think it was made in Visnea
and was meant to be sent to Melloreis, but it never got here’ said Hardacre,
‘We bought it with a batch of other Imperial artefacts about five years ago.
No-one seemed to know its provenance at the time that it was sold’
‘Anyway we don’t have it so this waffle is all a bit pointless’ growled
Fred.
‘Also, we can do nothing while we’re stuck down here’ said Kath, ‘we’re
pretty certain that no-one could teleport in past this door’
The conversation petered out in a collective sigh. They all sat quietly
waiting and trying to think of something constructive to say.
In the middle of this Viola awoke with a start and jumped up. Everyone
turned to look at her. Her eyes blazed.
‘I need to go outside’ she said, ‘I have to ring the bell’
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