CoJ: Chapters 22 through 28

[JasonPratt]

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Section Three -- First Night
Chapter 22: In With Him

___It looked like any other tower door.
___But Seifas knew it wasn't.
___"Be careful," said the juacuar, as Pooralay knelt beside it.
___"Ah-duhhh!!!" the short man slapped his head. "C'n you c'ntribute somethin' a little more specif'c?!"
___"Qarfax changed this door somehow."
___"Y'mean it's gonna turn me inside-out?"
___"No...maybe..." Seifas tried to puzzle what he had seen.
___"Then git, y'gangly shadow-throwin'—!" Pooralay broke off in mumbles, reining in his temper. "All o' yous, back! Left, right, anywhere, not in m' light!"
___Ignoring the glowers at his back—but they moved, including Dagon—the thief returned attention to the door. He pulled a thin metallic stick from one of many jacket pockets. Crouching close to a side, he probed the doorjamb with the strangely-ended implement.
___Seifas thought to tell him that when last he'd left the Tower, no one was alive within it. But he caught himself before he spoke: he didn't know if anything had happened during the slopings since. And he heard the rumblings...
___"Nothin' I c'n find," the thug reported, not too happily. "An' there's no lock t' pick—"
___"—ah-DUHHH!" retorted Dagon at this obvious announcement.
___"Okay, doll-boy, you c'n be th' one t' push th' door wide open, then! G'wan, it seems t' be complet'ly safe! Can't y'hear th' noise inside!?"
___"This is why we brought the red-shirt 'sap-boy'," Dagon smugly answered.
___"True enough," the fair man said. "You all stay back, and let me test it—"
___Seifas reached with his aasagai and poked the handle-latch, pushing the door slightly open.
___"GAH!" Pooralay cried. "Dammit, lemme get back from th'—!"
___"It didn't hurt me when I left it last time," Seifas said. "And you decided it had not been trapped."
___Pooralay sighed. "Y'wanna fill some details in f'r some of us?"
___Seifas briefly told him of his garrison.
___"A pile-a ash. Great." The little man stared sullenly into the narrow darkened gap. "So, who goes first?"
___"Jian!" Dagon said.
___"No, I will," corrected Seifas. Dagon tried to protest, but—"Silence!" said the juacuar. "I was last to leave this place, and I shall go in first!"
___Dagon aborted his complaint; perhaps because the juacuar had pointed around with the aasagai. The needled tip was floating like a wasp a fingerwidth from Dagon's face.
___"Be my guest," he gestured to the door—while staring at the tip. "May be better anyway..." he muttered.
___Pooralay warily stepped away, as Seifas pushed the door more open with the aasagai, letting sunlight stream into the room.
___"It's the basement," he announced, half to himself, as the noise increased.
___"Hmph. Funny place, above the ground," Gaekwar drawled.
___Seifas nodded. "Very true. What you see," he told them as he crossed the threshold of the large stone room, "is what we called the 'basement.'"
___"Kind of stupid, weren't you?" Dagon said. The group was gathering round the door, while Jian was next to step inside.
___The juacuar looked back to them. "This was the basement, at the time. The doorway you're all pressed against, opened to the floor above."
___They froze, except for Jian, already wandering curiously.
___"Be my guest," Othon grumbled—then shoved Dagon in.
___"Careful," Seifas warned them, as he barred the stumbling Krygian with the aasagai. "In the middle of the room, there is an open hole."
___"I don't see a hole," said Portunista as she squinted.
___"Maybe that's b'cause th' door ain't wide enough f'r you an' sunlight both, doll." After a poisonous glance—which the short man disregarded as he checked the doorway's inner frame—the maga whistled through her teeth. Floating wisplights lit the wide round room.
___"Thanks," absently nodded Poo, as Portunista walked inside, then "Oomph!"—she kneed his ribs in passing.
___"So, what we have here," Gaekwar mused as he and Othon followed after, "is an empty level of the Tower..."
___"Half a level." Othon bounced his forehead off the oaken beams above.
___"Three quarters of a level," Seifas said. "An intervening space above us holds some gearworks."
___"They run that, I guess." Portunista gestured at a plank which hung from thickly woven rope. The rope led to a metal ring from which two smaller ropes descended into eyebolts in the sturdy plank. The main rope dangled through a hole above, itself the size of the hole below the plank.
___"Exactly," Seifas said. "Although I think there are more gears than needed for this simple lift."
___"You've been up there?" Gaekwar asked.
___Seifas nodded, edging to the hole and peering up into the crawlspace depths. "I was curious one day while I was off my watch. The mechanism operates by pulling these." Two other finely woven cords descended from the hole above, connecting to some levers set on each side of the plank.
___"Wait, wait—back up," Dagon waved. "What about the door? Where does that door lead?"
___"Out," Seifas smiled. "See?" He pointed to the dell outside. The floor was gleaming oranger as the sun descended to the final hour. "Going in, it used to open on the next floor up, where our garrison was stationed."
___"Yeah? And where did that door lead?" Dagon asked.
___"Also out. Right there, outside that door."
___"So..." pondered Gaekwar. "What if guys went out both doors at once?"
___Seifas grunted wryly. "We were told to never use the basement door, except in an emergency. When Qarfax died, the door upstairs led nowhere any longer."
___"Pooralay!" called Portunista.
___The little man anticipated her. "No sigils on th' frame, or near th' door," he answered. "Nothin' near th' door at all, 'xcept f'r this here lever." He tapped a wooden brace, next to the door, into which ran another rope, knotted thickly at the bottom.
___"We also were told to never touch that lever!" Seifas warned.
___"Yeesh, okay, no probl'm!" Pooralay backed away.
___"What's the pail for?" Jian inquired. From simpler rope, a large tin bucket hung beneath the plank.
___"Drawing water," Seifas answered. When he yanked a thin cord down, it pulled its opposite number up, thus racheting up the opposite lever by a notch. The deep and steady rumbling underneath them now was joined by different clanks and rattles overhead. The plank and pail descended slowly. Seifas pulled the other cord, making the plank to stop. "It goes up similarly," he added.
___"Why a plank?" the maga wondered. "Why not just a pail?"
___"To get to the works above, of course!" Dagon snorted.
___"You mean, if they break down?" retorted Portunista.
___"Right!"—then Dagon winced.
___"Probably to reach the gears below," corrected Seifas.
___"You mean, if they break down?! " the Krygian answered witheringly. Now it was Seifas' turn to wince.
___"Interesting," Jian observed. "How does a person reach those gears, should something happen? Not by the plank!" he quickly added.
___"Doors?" suggested Othon.
___"No," said Seifas. "None I ever found."
___Portunista sniffed. "Qarfax studied superspace. He could jott and bind a tesser—he must have bound one on that door," she pointed. "Getting into places wouldn't be a problem for him, nor for anyone helping him."
___"Which brings us," Jian concluded, "back to why he has a plank."
___They all considered this, for a minute.
___"Well!" said Dagon finally. "Let's send Jian into the hole!"
___"Ready!" Jian hopped onto the plank. Dagon blinked, then smiled in anticipation...
___"Wait!" protested Portunista. "I am going down the hole!" Incredulous looks surrounded her. "We're in the tower of a Cadrist; I'm the one most qualified to figure out what he's done down there—"
___"—if anything..." interrupted Poo.
___"...and it's my brigade!"
___"I think you shouldn't go alone," warned the juacuar.
___"Fine," she snapped. "Hold still!"
___She leaped on Jian, pulling her legs around his waist until they dangled behind the plank.
___"Don't even think..." she growled beneath her breath, "of trying anything..."
___The startled man blinked once or twice...
___And then he said: "Let's go!"

Skip JRP notes and go to next chapter

[JasonPratt]

Notes from the real author...

Parsing out the puzzles here, or rather figuring out what I needed to show and tell for solving things later and to match up properly with what the party would see and hear, took me several drafts. I was still making tweaks up to the final pre-production edit. This will lead to a leftover mistake sometime in the next chapter or so, which I'll point out later.


Yes, the section title ("First Night") and this chapter title ("In With Him") as well as the next chapter title, are supposed to have other meanings. ;)

Otherwise, not really much to talk about in regard to this chapter that wouldn't be a spoiler for later. So, onward!

[JasonPratt]

Chapter 23: Together In The Dark

___"That don't seem overly safe..." Pooralay muttered.
___"Qarfax was heavy and tall." Seifas sounded as if he was stifling a chuckle, while watching the couple descend into the pit. "I think the plank will hold them both."
___Pooralay angled an eye at Seifas. "I didn't mean th' plank..."
___Jian and Portunista sank beneath the level of the wooden floor. Around them rattled machinery. Jian pulled one of the lever-cords, jolting the plank to a halt.
___"Well?" he loudly asked.
___"Well, what?"
___"Will you whistle up some lights? I didn't bring a torch..."
___She expelled a sigh, and cursed herself. What in all nine hells had she been thinking? Her imagination promptly gave her answers to that question...but she firmly clamped her imagination.
___As a consequence, she clenched her jaw so tightly she could barely focus her intent or even whistle.
___It took several tries to get some wisps.
___"Any problems?" Blue suffusion softly lit his pale and curly hair, she noticed...
___"Focus, dammit!" Portunista growled.
___"Ooookay," Jian recoiled, then shrugged and started examining their surroundings. Portunista did as well—being careful not to look in his direction.
___The lights showed millhouse wheels, set along the walls in frameworks. Streams poured down and over them, vanishing below. Although the cords had disengaged the gears, up in the headworks space, these wheels continued turning under force of falling water, working other shafts and gears nearby within the pit.
___"Seems a lot of effort for a water well!" Jian was speaking loud enough to hear, but not intrusively. Portunista wryly smirked at his consideration.
___And remembered not to look at him...
___All the distractions were giving her trouble in keeping the wisps in existence. So, she unbound them all but one.
___"Are you okay?" Seifas boomed from above.
___"Just fine!" she yelled. "And trying to think!" The men above could light the sconces she had seen upon the 'basement' wall.
___She guided her one remaining wisp over to a wheel—the southern one, she thought.
___"Neat!" she heard Jian say. "I had forgotten you could do that!"
___Ruefully she shook her head and smiled. Here she was, sitting on a full-grown man who still said "neat"! Well, maybe it fit; they were on a sort of swing...
___She put the wisplight through a series of acrobatics, darting it over, around and behind the machinery, dancing among the shadows, scampering through a millwheel's massive spokes.
___She tried to pretend she was only exploring meticulously.
___But Jian was laughing.
___She could feel him laughing, in her, under the rumbling machinery. She was showing off, and enjoying showing off, not for her own sake...
___...but because she was making him happy.
___She had to look.
___She put the wisp through a complex series of curving loops, for keeping his attention...and turned and looked at him.
___Was he laughing as a ploy—the way she laughed sometimes?
___No. She could see his face.
___He truly was enjoying her, her skill and ingenuity, for those were her in action, her enaction.
___So she spent another minute, cleanly feeling and enjoying Jian enjoying her.
___The wisplight floated to a hover, her attention drawn away. And so he surprised her when he turned to see her watching him.
___They blinked together.
___"You should smile like that more often." This she heard or felt him say. Was she smiling? Was her smile like his?
___A corner of her mind concluded that his eyes must be the wisplight color, for his irises shone white. His pupils, though, shone deeply black; blacker than the shadows farther than her light could reach. She wanted to reach into those shadows, and discover what was there. She wanted to curl up in those shadows, safe and warm beyond the world...where there was only healing and nothing that would ever hurt her...
___"Ahem..." She heard a cough, from in the shadows. She was there right now...Wasn't she? Was she? She looked around, in her security, and saw the restful nothing, which meant there was nothing to be fearful of...
___"AHEM!" Now the cough was more insistent. "Portunista!"—that was her name. Someone was saying her name, who didn't fear her, didn't hate her, didn't want to use her. Maybe he would say her name again...
___"It's hard to learn without a light to see by, Portunista!"
___And with a physical shock, machinery noise asserted itself. She could hear, but couldn't see; she could hear him, but she couldn't see him. Why could she not see him?! She could hear and feel him; she could even taste his smell, the-smell-that-was-him and no one else. Why couldn't she see him? She wanted to see him!
___"Why can't I see you?!" Portunista shouted, her security evaporating. Something was wrong. Everything was right, but something still was wrong!
___"I think the wisp burned out. Can you make another?"
___Her attention fully returned, to her self.
___With a snarling sigh, she whistled up another light, nearby. Jian looked curious more than worried, although he did blink several times, his pupils having dilated in the darkness.
___"Was there a problem?" he asked. "Did something happen? Was something wrong?"
___Her anger at herself spilled over. "No, nothing happened! Everything was right—Nothing's wrong! Just be quiet for a moment!!"
___He recoiled; and her heart was wrenched—because his smile was gone, and there was hurt within his face. She had put it there; for no good reason.
___But she was angry—she wanted to be angry at him—so she didn't apologize. What could she say?—that she had plunged them both into darkness, because she had let her attention slip while searching in his eyes?! She might as well tell him that she was a scatterbrained fool!!
___"What are you waiting for?" she demanded. He had already shrugged her harsh words off—she thought she had seen him mutter "Oh, well..."—"We need to go farther down!"
___"As you wish!" he cheerfully answered; then he crinkled his face in concentration, as he considered the ratcheting cords—pulling one would raise the other on its notching lever. As he worked to operate it right, she watched his nose—not his eyes!—his nose was twitching at the tip; not a lot, just a little...
___The plank jerked into movement, and she bit a curse in two. Had she actually been thinking of nipping the tip of his nose?!
___She sent the wisplight off again, as straight as if on rails—No dancing! she determinedly told herself—and kept it steady during their descent. As they passed the bottom of the wheels, she ordered another halt.
___The wide stone well showed polishing down to this point—by jotting, she suspected—but below the wheels the sides were rougher. She whistled up another wisp successfully, and sent it farther down. By its light, she saw the well wasn't only more natural here, but also narrowed from a width that was almost the same as the room above, into a throat a little wider than the plank. This rocky throat drank down the streams into a rushing water which seemed to be racing—she oriented with the Tower in her memory, south. A river underground.
___Something sparkled in the light, around the river's throat. What was that—?
___"Say," Jian interrupted her thoughts. "Isn't that a ledge?"
___"What?" she answered absently, while trying to decipher what was being revealed beneath them—
___"A ledge of stone," Jian clarified. "I think it's solid all the way around the well down here."
___She looked up to where he pointed—and she saw he was correct.
___She sent the upper wisp to slowly pass along the ledge. It seemed built sturdy enough...or maybe...
___Closing her eyes, she chuffed in syncopated tones, focusing her intention and attention. Flecks of elemental Yrthe coalesced beneath her eyelids as she concentrated. Binding her jott, she scruted the ledge, and also the walls around them.
___Ah; they had been jotted into their current shape!
___And...
___Her eyes popped open in surprise; ferociously she blinked to flush evaporating Yrthe.
___"That must be uncomfortable," Jian said sympathetically.
___"It could be worse," she wryly snorted, drying the tears from her cheeks. "It could be Phyre." She ignored his wincing ___"Ouch!", and looked around again with natural eyes.
___"We need to reach that ledge," she told him.
___"I don't believe that you can safely leap there," Jian replied in doubt.
___"Look!" she exclaimed. He turned toward her. "No, not at me!" she waved. "I mean look over there!" He dutifully followed to where the wisplight trailed; a shaft was spinning one small wheel in barest contact with the wall, at the ledge's level.
___The wall there glowed with sigils—very faint but deeply purple in the wisplight.
___Jian whistled in appreciative understanding, almost leaning from his seat to get a better view.
___"Hold still!" Portunista warned. "And look..." They locked their eyes together on the wisp, following as she traced around the ledge, revealing what her scrution had detected. The sigils encircled completely to a height above the ledge about two wrisths. On every cardinal compass point, a small wheel spun in contact with the tracing.
___"Wouldn't they grind away the...um...sigils?"
___"I don't know," admitted Portunista. "It depends on how they were made, I guess."
___"So why would anyone want to scrape them?"
___Portunista sighed. "I don't know—which is why I'm wanting over there!"
___"Oh. I see. Well..." Jian considered the plank-lift they were sitting on.
___"I think..." the maga murmured, squinting in the soft blue light. "I think those contact-wheels have sigils on them, too. It's hard to tell, they're spinning so fast..."
___"I have an idea! We'll swing back and forth, until we get you close enough to jump!"
___Portunista flatly turned her gaze to him; he was nodding his head, quite pleased with his idea.
___"Even if I did that," she retorted, "how am I supposed to get back on?!"
___This shaved his satisfaction somewhat. "Ummm...I swing over again and you jump?" His suggestion faltered under her increasing glare. "Well," he offered, "if you have another plan, I'm certainly willing to try. How did Qarfax get there, do you think?"
___"He probably tessered over, and then back again."
___"Couldn't he do that from above?" Jian looked up to where the subcommanders waited.
___"I don't know. I guess so, but...then what was this plank-thing for?!" And Portunista sighed again in irritation. "Okay," she relented, "fine! I can't think of another way, so let's try yours."
___"Since the ledge goes all the way around, we'll simply shoot for that part right in front of us...erm...I mean behind you and in front of me."
___"I'm going to leap backwards?!"
___"You can't leap over my head," Jian shrugged, "and you might snap my neck if I leaned to let you jump. Just turn around on my lap. When we swing close, pretend that you're a girl again. You've launched yourself from swings before—right?"
___Frankly, Portunista couldn't remember. She was entirely certain, though, that this was a freakishly stupid idea!—but she did want to see those sigils up close.
___Studiously not looking at Jian, she folded her legs and rotated round, until she was facing the same way as he. "Whoop!" he wobbled, as their weight shifted, bobbing the plank, throwing her backward onto him. Her heart was pounding like a mule-driven rock-breaker, as they struggled to gain their balance...
___"Hold still, blind your eyes!" Sweat trickled into her collar.
___"Um, that reminds me, Commander...I can't see through you, so I won't be able to help you decide when to jump."
___"Better and better," she groused. A prudent corner of her mind provided some visions of her leaping back to a swinging Jian, from a damp stone ledge, over a pit, leading to an Eyeforsaken underground river...!—she pounded that thought away. One thing at a time.
___"Okay, here we go!" Jian said.
___They started pumping back and forth.
___The swing gyrated in the air.
___Portunista was about to lash out with a reprimand, but he soothingly answered her first: "Wait, we've got to do this together, Commander. You lead, and I'll do my best to follow." Fine. She'd lead. That suited her, she simmered.
___She tried to put aside the unsettling aspects of the situation, and pretend that she was a girl again. She bent her legs—Jian bent his beneath and with her—and then they smoothly straightened.
___Nothing much happened. But they didn't wobble.
___She throttled her frustration, and continued the rhythmic motions, shifting her body's gravity along her legs.
___Her impatience soon abated: now they were moving! Steadily she breathed in rhythm with their movements—she knew she must prepare her nerve to jump, but put aside that worry while she concentrated on the immediate task. Back—forth...back—forth...a little farther every time...
___The breeze across her face invited a vivid vision—light no longer bluish black but yellow-bright as summer day, her tresses long again and flying in the air's caresses...
___"Doing well, Commander!" Jian sang out, distantly in her ear. Yes, but she must gauge the arc for maximum effect. Too low, and she would not be carried far enough. Too high, and forward motion would be transferred to momentum rising, and again she wouldn't carry far enough. Green grass beneath her tree lay warm with falling sunlight speckling shadows through the leaves around her as she traced along the ground expected consummations, playing, working, with a serious joy...
___Except...
___Something still was wrong...
___Hitched breath, nearly breaking rhythm—she came to herself again. No, it wasn't going to work. They were at the point where balance lay; more force would only push her higher in her leap, not farther—it should have been enough! Why not—?!
___"The hole!" she shouted.
___"Yeah, the rope is bouncing off the edge above us! I can feel it! You aren't going to reach it, are you?" He truly had wanted this for her...but Portunista pushed away the warmth this thought evoked—especially in their present circumstance! She jerked again, against their rhythm, imagining what the men above might also be imagining...!
___"Lower down—I need more rope!" she gritted out between her teeth, her temper rising. By the fires below, if she must be in this ridiculous situation, she was going to make it work...!
___"I don't know..." pondered Jian, loudly in the racket that disoriented as the sounds kept shifting through their swinging.
___"It'll work!" she told him. "Just...pull that lever—"
___"No, wait...the cord is really what controls it, the lever just gives—"
___"I don't care, just pull the lever!" Now the time to jump was near; she was becoming vastly nervous, and therefore much more resolute—
___"Portunista, wait! This isn't going to work!" Now Jian was shouting, too; though still he seemed to hold back out of worry for her ears.
___He might as well have been throwing oil on fire.
___"Just pull the lever!!"
___"If we go much lower, you'll need to swing much higher to get back to level with the ledge, and that'll mess your—!"
___"We'll be closer, too, so do what I say and PULL THE EYEBLINDED LEVER!!"

___Above them, their companions crouched around the hole, intently staring into pitchy deeps where bluish glowing only emphasized what they could not perceive. Long moments earlier, the rope had started heaving back and forth with escalating vigorousness; and now it was shaking as well as pitching.
___"I don't even want to know what's happening down there," Gaekwar drawled.
___"Probably clawin' large holes in his throat..." muttered Poo.
___"Can you see them?" Dagon asked with bored annoyance, as he leaned against the wall back near the open door.
___"I don't dare to lower a torch down there, as long as the rope is swinging like this," explained the dark man testily.
___"Well I can hear them over here!" the Krygian snorted. "What are they saying??"
___Portunista's shriek, especially clear in its intensity, drifted to them through all the machinery noise.
___"Pull the lever," Othon reported.
___Dagon sighed, shrugged...
___...and pulled the nearby lever.
___"Actually," he corrected them with a grunt, "it pushes, instead of pulls..."
___The knotted end of the rope shot up from out of the lever-brace, toward its ceiling-hole, although the knot itself caught there, unable to farther rise.
___Jian and Portunista, struggling over control of the plank, felt the tensions all give way on the cords.
___"Oh, spew..." the maga whispered in horror.
___Then they plunged into the pit.

Skip JRP notes and go to next chapter

[JasonPratt]

Notes from the real author...

No, they aren't doing anything erotic down in the well.

Yes, they are absolutely doing erotic things down in the well. ;) Thematically erotic. Also with quite a lot of foreshadowing (for this book and later).


After I finished the first draft, as I was going back to read over the whole thing in one fell swoop for the first overall edit, I suddenly realized to my horror and dismay that I had basically echoed the most famous joke from Disney's The Emperor's New Groove: the evil sorceress imperiously commands her minion to "pull the lever" to enter her secret lair, and when he does she drops into a pit with a pool at the bottom. A moment later she stomps back out another secret door, slapping off a gnawing alligator, and grumbles, "Why do we even have that lever?"

By then it was far too late to come up with something else, as this scene (and the machinery and pit and plank and pool etc.) have a whole lot more importance to the plot than will be immediately apparent!

So I just bit the bullet and tweaked it a little further in the direction of referencing that film, so that I could at least try to defend it as an intentional homage. :) PLEASE DISNEY DON'T SUE ME I HAVE NO MONEY!!!

[JasonPratt]

Chapter 24: Fazed

___A hideous sliding grinding sang above the four men round the well.
___"Uh..." Dagon blinked, near the open door. "Did I do that?"
___Between the ticking moments, Seifas tried to figure whether he could drive his aasagai into the rope, so that the indestructible shaft might bear the weight of his falling friends...was Portunista a friend—?
___But someone thought more quickly than even a juacuar.
___With a grunted snarl, Othon seized the diving rope, bracing himself at the edge of the hole. Shards of thread spit from his hands: the rope smoked to a halt! Seifas winced reflexively—but then saw Othon wore his battle gauntlets.
___"Wrong lever." The giantish man was eyeing Dagon balefully.
___"Sorry," the Krygian shrugged again. Then his eyes rolled upward toward the ceiling, as an ominous rumbling drifted down from overhead. The thin pull-cord, having been wrapped around a special gear or wheel, serenely sailed past Othon's staring eyes, into the void.
___"That," Pooralay mused, "does not bode well..."
___Seifas dashed across the room in leaps; Dagon dove aside as Seifas lunged to stab the knot which was caught in the hole above. Even its sharp tip did not go far into the sturdy knot, but Seifas pulled down anyway, leveraging the rope.
___"Pull!" he ordered Dagon; who regained his feet as Gaekwar slid into place. Once they had gotten their grips on the knot, the juacuar yanked out the aasagai and added his own hands. The three men heaved their bodies down, against increasing pressure from above.
___"Something's trying to come apart!" The 'cowherd' Gaekwar shook his face to fling the sweat away. "We've got to pull the tension tight again!"
___The toil became more difficult; but as they worked the rope into its first position, feeding it into the wooden brace, the troubling sounds receded in intensity above.
___"'Bout anoth'r han'width..." Pooralay told them, standing watch on the brace. Then he pulled the lever down in place, its opposite end impressing the rope above the knot—the knot pressed up in return, increasing the lateral pressure of the lever.
___A few more burps and bumps—and then the series of events above them stopped, although the rumbles from below continued on as usual.
___"We were told, NOT to touch that lever!" Seifas reminded the panting Dagon.
___"Sorry!" Dagon repeated. "Why does he even have this lever?"
___"Who knows," the 'cowherd' said, wiping away the stringy hair now plastered to his brow.
___"Who cares?!" Othon added in his strain. He still was holding his rope in place, and tendons stood out redly on his neck.
___Now recalling their dangling companions, three men rushed to Othon's aid. But Dagon took his time, ambling over. "C'mon," he said, "it's only Jian and Portunista and a plank and rope. It must be easier than pulling trees!"
___"Bad angle," grumbled the proud Manavilon.
___"Sorry, guys, my arms ain't long 'nough t' really help," the thug apologized; the other two each grabbed a section under Othon's hands. "Hm," he added. "I s'pose this rope ain't that rope. Oth'rwise," he pondered while the others raised the plank, "this woulda gone back up when that went down. B'sides, th' knothole stopped that rope, but this'n kept on goin'. Somethin' up there mus' be addin' friction, too; oth'rwise th' rest o' th'rope woulda fallen with th' cord..." He looked into the pit. "Guess they mus' be on there still."
___"Why d'y'say?" gritted Dagon, who had, under glares, joined in the hauling.
___"I doubt y'd be sweatin' that much, pullin' up an empty plank with three more men t' help, doll-boy! O' course," allowed Poo grudgingly, "they might be dead weight, too." He knelt and shouted into the hole: "Ever'one all right down there?!"
___"We're just fine, thanks!" came a glad shout in reply.
___"Nothin' fazes that boy..." Pooralay grinned.
___Soon they pulled the couple from the well. Othon, with assistance from the others, lifted the plank until the sitters' feet were clear, then twisted around to gently set them down.
___"Thanks, Othon!" Jian reached up from where he sat to clasp a massive forearm. Othon knelt to sit and rest. Portunista, on the other hand, had leapt—or rather stumbled—from the plank, as soon as her feet were over the floor.
___"Fazed," the 'cowherd' mumbled beneath his breath to Pooralay, who nodded "mm-hm" in agreement. The maga's short dark hair had lengthened a little during previous weeks, and normally flared, up and out, in careful wavy swoops. Now, bits and pieces straggled everywhere; and she seemed unable to blink while gulping air.
___"What!" she snarled, seeing their look. She tried to squint her eyes in a glare, which didn't quite work.
___"Nothin'," Poo and Gaekwar said in unison. Gaekwar wandered quickly to the door; the sun now touched the treetops edging the dell. The thug meandered over to Jian—who lay on his stomach, looking back in the hole.
___"So," said Pooralay, casually, "what were y' doin' down there?"
___Jian opened his mouth, but—
___"I will tell you what we saw," announced the maga, glaring more successfully at Jian.
___Portunista gave the squad a brief account of their discoveries in the pit—no need for too much detail over certain points, she thought.
___When she reached their fall, Seifas told her what had happened. Portunista turned her glare on Dagon; although curiosity now was blunting her anger.
___"Why," she muttered to herself, "does he even have that lever?"
___"Well," continued Jian, seeing Portunista deep in thought, "we fell a ways before you caught us. Right for the throat of the hole...wsshh!! Except," he shrugged, "we couldn't see the hole anymore, because the wisps had doused again. But," he hurried on, with a cautious glance toward Portunista, "once you caught us, Othon, and the...mm...excitement had lessened, Portunista whistled up another light. Now, here's the interesting part—"
___"The throat of the well was encircled with sigils," the maga absently interrupted.
___"Down to the water's edge," Jian nodded. "I mean right to the edge. Where the river rushed beneath it, the throat was smooth as if it had been razor-cut...ow," he coughed, "bad analogy. Still, it was completely strange."
___"So, were the sigils doing anything?" Gaekwar asked.
___"They were indeed," Jian nodded. "Portunista can explain it better, though."
___"Hm? Oh." The maga turned to face them; then sat down on the floor. Her knees felt wobbly, she decided..."I tried an Yrthescrution once I got my bearings. Sometimes it can help me understand a sigil when I'm in proximity. But I've never seen these kinds before."
___"So, you don't know what they did," pronounced the Krygian.
___"Oh, I think I do," she snap-returned. "A scrution always has at least a little overflowing of perception. Like when you're focused on a blade, you still see other things. But I didn't realize what I was seeing, till Jian said something about the bucket being in the water."
___"The plank was used for a waterwell, I guess?" Jian shrugged.
___"But I wasn't sensing where the water should have been," continued Portunista. "The scrution told me that the throat continued past the sigils—not into a rushing river!"
___"How far past?" Gaekwar asked.
___"Another hundred paces, easily. Then I found the water. I could feel its flow, against the throat of the well...but not remotely as quickly!"
___Jian dipped his hand into the pail, placed behind the plank; splashed around; and then drew out his hand with a flourishing spray.
___"That river was there! And it was flowing fast."
___"Superspace," Othon murmured.

[JasonPratt]

Chapter 25: Settling In

___With the sun's descent into the forest top around the grassy bowl, the air was turning chill and damp, filling full with shadows. The juacuar insisted they explore the floor above, before the full night fell.
___"This is where we quartered," he explained, while leading up the narrow stairs which curved along the inside of the Tower. Here the sturdy lumber ceiling rested rather higher. Past this landing, stairs continued winding.
___Where the narrow crossing hallways met, a rock-lined firepit showed no signs of recent use. In every wall of every hallway section stood two doors, totaling sixteen. The sky's light filtered indirectly in through deep and open windows, at three of the hallway ends, including on the stairway landing. Sconces lined the walls between the doors; but Portunista whistled wisps, until the torches could be checked and lit.
___Directly across from the entry landing, at the southern hallway's end, stood no window—but a door. After careful scrutiny by Pooralay, Jian—at Dagon's order—opened it.
___Only a blank stone wall.
___"J'st like Seifas said. Int'restin'," Pooralay murmured.
___"More interesting," added Portunista, "this one also has no sigils."
___"You mean, Qarfax bound a tesser here permanently into place?" Dagon blinked, and thought this over. "Could he do that? I mean, he had to sleep eventually, right?"
___"Cadrists don't—or didn't—see the world the way we do," explained the maga, with a touch of wistfulness. Being in the Tower, seeing only these few things...she could taste that power, that distinction, that position in her world...
___"They remained awake, to enjoy the duty of sleep," said Jian, softly. Then he blinked. "Sorry...you were saying?"
___"I don't know what you're talking about," she irritably replied...what sort of drivel was that...?! "But a Cadrist could attend to dozens, maybe hundreds, of his bindings at a time; and he could keep them all in place, or many, even while his mind and body slept." She didn't have a clue how this was done, or what the feeling would be like; but someday she would find it out...
___"So, people could go in and out this door," the lanky 'cowherd' brought the topic back on track, "as if it was the door downstairs. Why would Qarfax do that?"
___"He never told us," Seifas shrugged. "He never told us anything about this door. He only told us, never use the basement door, except in an emergency. As you can see, the windows for the garrison floor are slim and few. We never noticed different heights," he ruefully admitted.
___"I've got an even better question," Dagon said. "If Qarfax could create a tesser with those sigils in the well, why not put them on the doors? Why bother with a bind at all?"
___The maga shrugged. "I haven't a clue. Maybe he was going to, and never got to do it? Maybe scribing a tesser-sigil as large as this door, was something he hadn't discovered, yet."
___"But why would he do it at all?" Gaekwar exclaimed. "It doesn't make sense! No more than him rigging a seat to go down in the well, when he could just jott himself there when he wanted!"
___"I don't know!" Portunista was becoming very tired of saying this; it wasn't improving her mood. "I simply don't know how tessers work, so I don't know what their limitations are. If we ever reach his private rooms or laboratories, maybe I can figure something out from his notes. That is why we came here," she reminded them impatiently, "not to stand in this hall!!"
___"Why y're all here, not me," the thug corrected idly. "I came here f'r the Well."
___"And?" Othon asked.
___Pooralay shrugged. "I dunno. It's a well, an' I guess it's at th' end of a woods. But it don't seem t' mean or t' do anything—not anythin' worth discoverin', I mean. Like 'ista says, maybe there's some notes upstairs."
___"First we check these rooms," insisted Seifas. The longer Portunista took to reach those notes—any notes—the better. And discipline dictated they ensure the barrack rooms were clear.
___"Fine," Dagon said. "Send Jian in."
___Pooralay snorted. "Y're gettin' t' sound like a brain-flogged macaw. 'Send Jian in, send Jian in, bwa-CAAAWW!'"
___"Just get on with it," Gaekwar demanded. "I want supper!"
___So they settled in. The thug began to examine a door, by wisplight and the torches being lit by Othon on the wall.
___"These were only barracks, right?" Gaekwar asked, fiddling with the disker.
___"That is what they were," the juacuar confirmed. "But who knows what has happened here, in the slopings since?"
___"I thought a good burglar could wipe through a check in a moment or two," Dagon sulked. "Or maybe you failed basic thievery?"
___"Oh, I c'd do it that fast, if I wanted to. But the fancy stuff is f'r 'mergencies, or for showin' off. Speed kills."
___"'Oh, I could do that, if I wanted to,'" Dagon mocked. "That's sure easy enough to say."
___Pooralay looked back at him. Then he turned around completely, pulling out an ohre from his pocket. "Okay, doll-boy, check this out." Setting the coin upon his left hand's thumb, he flipped it into the air.
___It didn't come down.
___"Pretty smooth, hm?"
___"Cute street trick," the arrogant Krygian said with contempt, as Pooralay walked to him. "It's in your fist. Probably never left your thumb."
___"Guess y'r eyes ain't even as good as I was 'xpectin'," Poo replied. "Nor y'r ears. Any of th' rest'a yous, see and hear th' coin go up?"
___Jian raised his hand. "I did."
___"Okay, I did, too," Gaekwar admitted, interested in spite of himself.
___"You snatched it out of the air that fast?" Dagon dubiously stared at the fist.
___"Nah." Pooralay opened the fist, under Dagon's nose.
___It was empty.
___Portunista had wandered over, to look more closely for herself. Not taking his eyes from Dagon, Pooralay reached and stuck his right hand into Portunista's thick dark hair.
___"Hey!" she exclaimed as she batted his hand away...then choked.
___He held the ohre on edge between his thumb and index finger.
___"Very nifty!" nodded Jian.
___"Hey, 'ista," Gaekwar grinned. "How come that never happened whenever I did that?" This earned him the expected spiky glare, but he continued grinning all the same.
___"I snatched it that fast, doll-boy. That's how some of us do magic, sister," Pooralay winked to the maga. "So, unless y'wanna kick th' door in y'rself an' check fer traps that way, stay outta my hair!" he added over his shoulder to Dagon—who edged even farther down the hall.
___The thug went back to work, but not for long.
___"What," Portunista mused, "would a mage be like, who could move that fast?"
___"Lethal," rumbled Othon.
___Portunista pondered this. True, in terms of teeth and tongue and throat, a mage could only jott so fast. But still...
___With a smile, she sauntered over to the little man, and knelt beside him.
___"Would you perhaps consider giving some private lessons?"
___Seifas sighed in disappointment for his commander...
___Poo's hands froze.
___He slowly turned his head in her direction.
___"Doll," he said, very deliberately—faltering her smile. "If y're talkin' 'bout payin' me gold, don't bother. I c'n pick up all y'r gold, whenev'r I want. If y're talkin' 'bout payin' anoth'r way..." and he narrowed his eyes even further, "y'r tent looks too crammed-full already. I de-cline." He returned to work.
___Seifas suppressed a laugh: that didn't happen often...!
___Portunista was much less amused.
___"Considering who I am," she slid her voice like steel through her lips, "and what I can do, you might want to treat me with more respect than you've shown so far."
___Again, the thug's hands froze.
___Again, he slowly turned his head toward her.
___"True 'nough," he allowed. "But then, y'might wanna watch what kinda threats y'make, considerin' how closely we're sharin' this hallway..."
___—yelping indignantly, Portunista leaped, crashing backward into the wall behind her at an angle—
___"...and considerin' some of us's hands're quicker than th' Eye." The thug returned to work, grinning in satisfaction; Jian softly chuckled.
___The maga pushed herself off the floor, bracing against the wall, her eyes nearly popping out of her head in fury. How dare he—he—!
___Then her fury melted into growing horror. Staring at the thug, who whistled a bawdy dancing tune, Portunista edged her hand to her practical—well-cut!—shirt, undid the second button, and reached inside.
___She drew the ohre-piece out.
___"Hope it was good f'r you too, doll."
___Gaekwar whistled.
___"Hey, 'ista," Dagon began. "How come that never happened when—"
___"Shut up!" she barked.
___Pooralay leaned away from the door. "Done!" he announced.
___"Okay!" Jian walked over—very carefully looking not at Portunista; but smiling and winking at the little man once his face was out of her line of sight. He composed himself, squarely faced the door—and with a loud "Ha-HAAA!!" he threw it open and leaped into the darkness beyond.
___A moment's silence.
___"All clear!" rang out his cheerful baritone. "Um. I think. Anyone have a light?"
___"One down, fifteen t' go." Pooralay stepped to the next door over.
___"This is going to take forever," Gaekwar groused.
___It only took an hour, though. There were fewer interruptions.


Skip JRP commentary and go to next chapter

[JasonPratt]

Notes from the real author...

This type of adventure story is largely about exploration of an area and putting together enough pieces to infer or discover what has happened there and what the secrets are. Rather like a detective novel in that regard--and there's even the question of who or what killed the magus to investigate!

The whole rest of the book won't be like this--a good 100 pages toward the end, close to 25% of the total book by weight, is dedicated to what I like to call the Macro-Fight Sequence. And we'll have a couple of action sequences before leaving this Section, too. Still, I thought it was important not only to establish the environment and the exploration here, but also to get the various people settled in with each other for working together. (Thus one of the chapter titles.) Sure, 'ista has been working with Dagon, Othon and Gaekwar for a while, but under very different circumstances (personnel management and small amounts of field fighting); Seifas rather less so; Jian and Pooralay even less so again by proportion. They really are getting to know one another better now.


Yes, there are people whose hands really can move that fast; I don't know any of them personally, but I've seen them in action. Literally faster than the eye can see, and with that degree of precision. Some of those people are modern day gunfighters (who do exhibitions of course); and frankly if they can do what they do, I don't have any trouble believing people could do it back in the Old West days, too. What we see in movies ISN'T FAST ENOUGH to match the unbelievable reality.

(That's true about swordfighting, too, as I know from personal and direct experience: the action has to be slowed way down for filming, or it would be incomprehensible to the human eye. B level fencers can literally stab flies out of the air, with the bulkier epee swords, faster than the eye can see, as a friend of mine reported incredulously after visiting a good fencing dojo. The A-level fencers, who compete at national and Olympic levels, ARE EVEN FASTER! This is a main reason why fencing has never been popularized for broadcast at the Olympics. The only things at the games which move faster than a foil tip are the bullets in the shooting competitions.)

Anyway, unbelievable levels of hand (and arm-)speed, literally baffling to the human mind, are a main component of stage magic (and pickpocketing for that matter), thus explaining Poo's comments.


Yes, I borrowed Jian's mystical saying about staying awake to enjoy the duty of sleep directly from something written by C. S. Lewis regarding ancient humanity. Readers shouldn't infer from this that Jian knows Lewis, any more than Pooralay knows Star Trek when he comes up with a shared terminology phrase a couple of chapters from now. As previously noted, I follow the fantasy-writer's dictum that every good saying occurs in all alternate realities sooner or later; Chesterton has pointed out, in tracing story transmission and development, that good sayings even develop independently from each other in this world!

(Incidentally, I don't think I had read any G. K. Chesterton when I wrote CoJ, but I certainly did soon afterward and I include nods to him in Book 2.)


Chapter 25 features a leftover 'seam' from when I was trying to synch up the various characteristics of the Tower with what people there would be seeing and hearing and otherwise experiencing; I kept discovering things I had missed or miswritten up to the final days before sending the text to the printers. One of the last things (maybe the last thing) I tried to fix was when I realized that Seifas of all people should have noticed there was a substantial difference between what he could see out the windows of what he thought was the first floor (the garrison floor) but which physically was really the second floor. The most I could do was lamely have Seifas admit with embarrassment that he never had noticed (before he and the garrison troops fled of course--the tessers on the doors failed and so then they had to go out what they had been told was the basement, and Seifas definitely noticed then.)


Once I had plotted out all of what happens through the first night, I realized that the only way the timing would work would be if the party arrives in the area only an hour or two before sundown. Which wouldn't make good sense--Seifas, if no one else, would be the first to vehemently advise against attempting to explore the Tower so soon before night. The only feasible solution I could think of was that the brigade arrived in the area around midmorning to set up camp near the pass leading into valley; and then Portunista, impatient with having had to wait for the camp to be settled before moving, insisted on trying something that afternoon even though her party wouldn't arrive at the Tower until near sundown. (Seifas would still have been sent out scouting of course--troop management not being his forte anyway--but he wouldn't have had time to do a thorough job, explaining why he misses a few key things to be discovered later.)

I don't much like making a character hold the Idiot Ball, but sometimes there isn't any other way around a plot corner. When that's the case, the best thing an author can do is exploit a personality fault; Portunista's attitudes plausibly lead to unwise impatience. That'll be true again, more dangerously so, before the end of this Section. (But then, if I appeal to that as an author, I ought to have the character learn better from it. Which she will, though not explicitly so: her prideful impatience only becomes a problem again in Book 2, at a tragically important point of the plot, but I'll have developed her deteriorating character sufficiently to make it plausible again--for someone in her state of mind anyway.)

[JasonPratt]

Chapter 26: Onward And Upward

___"I am ready for supper, now!" Gaekwar's drawl was absent.
___Seifas shook his head. "We were fortunate we found nothing on this level—"
___"'Fortunate'?!" interrupted Portunista.
___"But," continued Seifas firmly, "we should scout one level more, before we camp tonight."
___"Why?" insisted Dagon.
___"Safety," nodded Othon.
___"It's not like we'll be sleeping up there!" persisted Gaekwar.
___"No," Pooralay sighed, "y're sleepin' down here. Where somethin' might still come t' getcha."
___Gaekwar froze in mid-retort; then also sighed. "Never mind. Let's just do it..."
___The stairway wound along the Tower wall, up through another median. Instead of any open room this time, it passed a single door, set in the inner wall which paralleled the outer curve.
___The sun had set; and through the narrow open window opposite the door, the stars were shining in their nightly blaze. The stairs wound onward into a gloom above.
___"Seifas—how many more floors?" Portunista asked.
___"Only one. The top—where Qarfax died. He slept and took his meals up there. We figured this was where he worked; he often used this door, but warned us—"
___"—never to touch it," several voices chorused.
___"Well, 'ista, go on!" said Dagon. "This is where you wanted to be!"
___She flatly glared at him.
___"Pooralay, check the door," she ordered, not even looking toward it. She noticed he worked more quickly than before; maybe he was hungry, too...
___"Sigils all over th' frame," reported the little man, continuing his sweep.
___"Of course there are," she sneered at Dagon. "He would guard his  laboratory."
___"An' th' handle's false," the thug concluded, leaning back to rest.
___"What?!" Portunista turned and stared.
___"Handle's just for looks. Hey, jaguar! Y'ever ac'shl'y see th' mage go in?"
___"Once," Seifas answered. "Others did as well. He used the handle—but, I saw he also put his palm upon this plate." He indicated near the door, a finely arabesqued rectangular slate.
___Portunista was already chuffing softly, in contemplation.
___"Flog it," she muttered a minute later, and wiped the Yrthe from her eyes. "I don't know what the sigils do. I mean, they act as a lock, awaiting a key—that's obvious—but what the key is or how it works, I haven't any clue."
___"Anything else you saw or heard?" the Krygian asked the juacuar, who only shook his head. "So," Dagon mused, "I suppose that means the magus wasn't jotting to make it work."
___"That helps us, doesn't it?"
___Dagon blinked at Jian's sincere remark; and so did Portunista. But the Easterner's inference did make sense...
___"No jotting," she perused. "Gloves, Seifas? Maybe a ring?"
___"He did wear rings," the juacuar confirmed. "No gloves."
___"So maybe only the hand," she said. "I think if such a lock required a ring, the plate would have an appropriate shape."
___"Too bad," Othon sighed. They looked at him. "No hand."
___"Yeah," Pooralay winced, "that's right. A pile-a dust upstairs."
___A minute passed.
___"Well, that's it!" Gaekwar gave a single clap and turned around. "I'm off to start the fire—!"
___"Hold!" commanded Portunista. "We aren't out of options yet! If the sigils have been inscribed to read his handprints, those might still be found in his room."
___"You're kidding," Dagon said; but Pooralay was nodding.
___"Yeah," he agreed, "it's poss'ble. Some tape and powd'r might do th' trick; which o'course I happen t' have. Betcha got some powd'r, too, hm?" Portunista ignored his tease; as a matter of fact, she did have some talcum powder. She would use his, however.
___"Or," she moved along, a little sourly, "if these sigils need a ring, it might be somewhere up the stairs."
___"In his pile of ash!" suggested Jian.
___"Or," the maga forcefully concluded, drowning that unnerving image, "if they need his living flesh, we still may be in luck."
___"Y'think he kep' a spare hand inna jar, up in his room?!"
___"Woman's secret," she smiled mysteriously. Blank looks confirmed that only she knew where to find his living flesh.
___"I'll be lighting the fire downstairs." The 'cowherd' hastily turned again—
___"I will need you all to help me search!—so come along!" Portunista marched upstairs, sending the wisplight on in front.
___"We're gonna end up in all these rooms before the night is over," muttered Gaekwar; but he followed along obediently.
___After one more half-turn around the Tower, Portunista reached the final door, also set in the inner wall.

___There it was.
___Here she was!
___This was it—the real beginning—everything she had been hoping and dreaming about!

___Dagon, though, provided some perspective.
___"It doesn't bother you at all a Cadrist died in there?!" he nervously snapped from several steps below.
___Her neck popped icy water beads. She had, in fact, forgotten that completely in her eagerness; despite Jian's casual comment only a minute ago. Had he been reminding her, politely...? No matter. She firmed her voice before she answered:
___"Not in the least!"
___"Crazy minx..." floated up from down around the curve, but Portunista couldn't tell who said it. Part of her mind decided it wasn't Jian, however, and...What did she care what anyone thought?! Jian included!
___"Step aside, and let me get t' work. No plate up here," Pooralay added for the men below who couldn't see the door. "I guess that's how the jaguar got inside."
___"Go ahead," she said, more calmly than she felt.
___What might she find inside—waiting for them?
___Waiting for her.
___She forcibly recalled her logic about their chances...

___"Complet'ly clean," the thug announced, disgustedly. "Wasn't even locked." He cursed himself in mutters, for not attempting the Tower earlier...
___"That means Qarfax wasn't keeping important things up here..." Dagon was probably right, Portunista had to admit...But flay his bones!—he didn't have to sound so smug about it!
___"Not in here, perhaps," she said defiantly, "but he didn't place that sigilplate downstairs for nothing!"
___"So, go on in!" the Krygian said.
___"All right!...I will!"

___...but she didn't.
___a Cadrist had been brutally slain inside this room...
___...and she...
___was only an apprentice...

___A minute crawled across her.

___Then Dagon said that Jian should be let past so he could go in first...
___"Okey-doke!" agreed the irrepressible man.
___"What if a Roguent's in there?" That was Gaekwar.
___"Oh...um... I'll tell it there are people more worth eating somewhere else than Qarfax's room!"
___Portunista sighed. Could Jian take nothing seriously—?!

___...she didn't want to see his helpful cheerfulness scraped rawly away in bloody screams, along with his face and his chest and—

___"I will go," she said.
___And she did.

[JasonPratt]

Chapter 27: Living, Unliving and Chafing

___Portunista arced the wisp into the room, as she thumbed the latch and pushed the door part-open, bracing it while kneeling, hoping any attacks would be directed where she wasn't.
___Not that this would likely fool a Rogue...
___She shot more whistled lights to every quarter of the room, as well as near the center. Then she rolled, half upright, through the door.
___She had to force herself to see...because she didn't want to see...would she be driven mad before the torment...?

___She only saw a large, well-furnished bedroom.

___"Nice roll, doll..."
___Portunista couldn't tell if Pooralay was making fun; and decided she  didn't care.
___The bedroom of a Cadrist...
___She would have a room like this, one day, she promised herself, slowly standing, quieting down her nerves, marveling in the opulence.
___In fact, she could have one tonight! No one else would want to sleep up here, inside a dead man's room.
___Besides—she was leader. She could requisition any room she wanted.
___Most importantly, she would do this to defy her fear...
___"Are you dead yet?" Dagon's inquiry floated up the stairs and through the door.
___"Still alive, thanks for asking! You can come in now! Be careful, though," she added as the door swept open. "There's a dead man on the floor."
___"Yeah," the thug observed, respectfully. "Sort of."
___Several paces away from the door, deposited as if at random, lay the pile of ash. And some clothes and rings, and other things.
___"Eerie," Gaekwar murmured as he entered, darting his attention and the disker three directions all at once, and fingering his axe's shaft. Othon entered last—and even then, the room did not feel smaller. Pooralay was lighting lamps.
___"Nice bed," Dagon nodded. "Big enough to hold us all..."
___"Tonight just me," said Portunista.
___"What?! You can't be serious!"
___She sighed, while poking through pillows: "I have a headache..." She might have to find a comb or brush...
___"That isn't what I...never mind," Dagon sulked. "Whenever that thing comes back tonight, don't yell too loudly or else you'll wake us up downstairs...What are you doing??"
___She smiled triumphantly. "Living flesh from Qarfax!" she announced...
___...and held up a hair.
___"That counts as living flesh?" Gaekwar asked.
___"The root of it does." Portunista brought it over to show him and the other subcommanders. By the lamplight, they could see the tiny bottom glob. "If you don't yank the root, the hair keeps coming back. We won't need any powder!" she told Pooralay. "Come on, I want to try it on the plate right now!" She pushed past everyone.
___"Closer to the firepit, closer to the food, I guess..." Gaekwar sighed and followed after.
___But Pooralay and Jian were crouching near the remains; Seifas paused to watch and listen.
___"Either almost instantly," Jian was speaking in a hushed evaluation, "or, he was held somehow. Right?"
___"Yeah..." the thug agreed. "Pretty good, kid."
___Jian acknowledged his compliment with a small and sober smile, as he stood. "Only a pile, not a trail," he said to Seifas as they left, with Pooralay not far behind. "The fabrics are in the dust-pile, too. He wasn't moving."
___Portunista waited for everyone to join her at the locked-door landing. She was certain this would work—her smile was swelling just about to bursting! Now they all would see her victory, and so she turned to touch the follicle to—
___"Hey, Portunista!" It was Jian.
___"What?" she snapped, annoyed at the interruption.
___"So, what is your powder for?"
___She blinked for several moments... "What?!"
___"Well, Pooralay has some powder for lifting fingerprints, although it doesn't seem we'll need it. I just wondered what you used yours for," he pleasantly  inquired.
___She glared at him a moment. "Chafing," she flatly said.
___"Oh. Just curious. I thought it might be makeup, since, y'know, you are a woman..."
___"Jian!" she grated. What moronic conversation was this?! Granted, she did always bring some things of that sort in her belt-pockets, just in case she needed touching up before a meeting—she was brigade commander, after all—but...Scourge him! This was supposed to be her moment of triumph! It was not supposed to be a lecture on a woman's uses for talcum powder...!
___"Chafing," Othon agreed.
___Portunista felt invisible strings, dragging her head around in his direction. Pulling off a gauntlet, the gargantuan man unbuttoned a pouch on his own belt. With his hairy-fingered ham of a hand, he pulled a tiny vial from which, uncorked, he gently tapped into the gauntlet's leather lining.
___"Helps the skin stay drier. Makes the cloth and leather less abrasive. Keeps the smell down, too."
___"That makes sense!" Jian was intensely interested. "I sure wish I had some of that."
___"Here. I have plenty."
___"Thanks!" Jian pocketed two of the flat tiny vials. "Which reminds me, I really should put on my gloves..."
___If someone had told Portunista that the longest string of words from Othon's mouth she'd ever hear would be about some talcum powder...
___She shook her head. The next time she had even the faintest notion of wanting to nip Jian's nose in the dark, she'd order Gaekwar to shoot a disc through her brain...!

___And so, having altogether forgotten about her pride in her victory, she pressed the follicle to the sigilplate.

Skip JRP commentary and go to next chapter

[JasonPratt]

Notes from the real author...

Uh, no, I'm not at all sure that roots from human hairs would survive for more than half a year to count as "living flesh". But for reasons I'm not going to explain yet, I eventually realized this was a moot point. :) (Let's just say that Mikonese humans aren't realworld humans and leave it at that.)

Back when I was trimming chapters down in pre-production, I accidentally cut out the place where Portunista affirms out loud she does carry talcum powder. Or rather, I switched that over to a secondhand thought from her (related in narrative form).

Consequently, Jian's question at the end of chapter 27 seems to come out of nowhere now, since he's acting as though she affirmed she did have talcum powder with her (although not why she would use it). Well, he's a mysterious guy, and I hinted at the end that he had a reason for asking the question other than simple curiosity, i.e. trying to distract her from thinking about how awesome she was to have figured out how to get in: better for her to be slightly annoyed at Jian than to be dwelling in pride on her victory. :)

[JasonPratt]

Chapter 28: When Nothing Matters (Part 1 of 2)

___In the bluish wisplight glow, the sigils seemed to float, first above, then below the surface of the plate.
___Portunista knew what happened next was not exactly such a trick of eyes and light.
___As the follicle touched on the arabesque, a violet pierced the blue, spreading in an instant over the plate.
___Portunista heard the doorframe "click"; she pushed the handle...
___...opening the door.

___Gaekwar tried to speak; failed; and then in quiet awe began again.
___"Seifas...Did you ever actually look inside the door?"
___The dark man slowly shook his head. "No. None of us were ever close enough."
___"Sooo...this might be normal," Dagon judged. "Or might not."
___Beyond the door, were branches—several hundred paces in the air.
___Purple misty twilight pooled within and under leaves. But up above...
___Pooralay regarded this, then looked behind him out the southern window. "C'rrect me if I'm wrong...but ain't it darker here, than there?"
___"A couple hundred kilops west of here..." Portunista drank the sight, feeling insignificant. Could a magus really jott a tesser that far distant? No, it had to be the sigils.
___Othon sniffed. "And spring," he added—then he sneezed.
___"So, it's several thousand kilopaces north-northwest," Jian concluded, sounding quite impressed. Portunista blinked. Of course: just as they were on the autumn upslope, spring would also be beginning north of the equator. Not too far north, however—this was more like never-ending summer.
___"What did we do wrong?" Gaekwar asked.
___"Nothing." Portunista shook her head. "This is it. The hair worked fine. This is his security. This is not his laboratory. This is how we go there."
___"Anywhere out there," said Dagon ruefully.
___"No, wait—think about it," she answered. "Qarfax needed sigils on the door to go this far. The next door must be relatively close, even if he tessered to it."
___"Yeah, but why'd he bother doin' this at all? He c'd just brick up th' door, an'...I dunno...'beam' h'mself right t' th' lab fr'm in his room," observed the thug. "Y're sayin' th' lab is really b'hind this wall, an' when we find th' next door it'll lead t' where this'd norm'lly go. Right?"
___"Because he was a researcher?" Portunista shrugged. That sounded less than confident. "Depending on what he was doing in his lab, then 'beaming' to it might be dangerous. And this," she waved, "might be an experiment, too."
___"A mighty large number of 'mights'," Dagon snorted.
___"Okay, fine," retorted Portunista. "There's a few more minutes here...I mean out there...before the sun will set completely—so we'll just fan out and look."
___"In the treetops," Gaekwar dryly said.
___"It isn't all that hard!" the maga exclaimed in exasperation. "Look, the trees are woven close together; branches large, plenty of handholds...See?!"
___She demonstrated this by stepping through the door.
___It shot away, in an arc, to the right, behind her.
___She turned in time to see the portal close and vanish.

___Anger turned to ice.
___"Spewing blinding bile..."

___She was alone. In a forest. Deep in the Middlelands. Thousands of thousands of paces away from her brigade. And night was falling.
___In an Eyeforsaken tree!
___...in the distance, an inhuman shriek erupted.
___Answered by another, distinctly closer...
___"Okay...okay..."
___She spent a minute muttering this at various speeds.
___Nothing was okay. But she needed time to seize her fear.
___First things first.
___Slowly, carefully, Portunista reached to balance on a limb.
___Slowly and even more carefully—her hand was jittering so, it took a quarter- minute—she put the follicle into the smallest pocket on her belt.
___"Think it out," she told herself.
___She was doomed if this was just a trap. Dead...? Not necessarily; but she might need a year or more to walk to southern lands.
___She was young and strong. She could make it. Probably.
___Assuming it was not a trap, the real door to the laboratory should be somewhere near. Probably on the ground: it would need a framework which would be more difficult to have constructed up in the trees. She could jott some wisps to help her search—although those might attract whatever had screeched in the distance. Maybe morning would be a better idea...She even could spend some days to quarter the area; fruits that might be edible hung from the trees.
___On the other hand, her friends—her officers, she corrected herself—would not go back to her brigade and leave her here. Well, Dagon might...but she was certain the others wouldn't. Because...
___...well, because they were her friends.
___They certainly didn't have much other reason to be loyal to her. But she'd bet that right this moment, they were searching for another hair.
___Jian would certainly be; and she realized, she would bet her final drop of blood on that.
___Although he'd probably do the same for Dagon, too.
___That thought only irritated her. But the combination of annoyance and of...hope...helped to further clear her head.
___So. Where could she expect the portal to appear?
___Behind her? No, she couldn't hope for that. Qarfax would have wanted the next invader attempting the door to be befuddled.
___And yet, the next one through the door, on any normal occasion, would be Qarfax—who would not appreciate disorientation every time that he stepped through. So, the door would probably reappear along some limited positions...such as on a circle!
___Yes, she thought as she peered through the dying daylight; the door must always vanish moving right: branches with older cuts had grown above the fresher cuts.
___And in an arcing path!

___So. She felt much better now.
___Now she had more hope.
___Several minutes had passed already; her friends should open the door at any moment. Somewhere on that radial arc; probably forty-five to sixty degrees on either side of straight across from where she stood—because if it was seen when it returned, it wouldn't be so fuddling as a trap!
___Qarfax was a clever man; but she was clever, too. She was also willing to bet that she could find the other door, if she was wrong about this door returning—or about her...friends.
___And she bet the follicle would unlock it. And, Qarfax wouldn't likely run the same trap going out; she could probably open the door, once she was inside, and step out onto the stairwell landing like the door was normal.
___And then she would demand to know why no one had come to help her...! Where were they?
___As if on cue... "Portunista!"
___She couldn't exactly discern the direction among the baffling branches, but it wasn't far away.
___And it was Jian.
___Of course. He would insist on going first.
___"I'm over here!" she yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth, trying to give him a better direction—she found that she was smiling wider than her cupping hands! She forced herself to gain composure—mustn't let him...mustn't let them...see how glad she was to—
___—thrashing leaves above her—!!
___her body hurtled forward and down, instinctively diving away from the sound...
___...off her branch...!
___Too shocked to curse, she threw her arms in all directions, scrambling for a handhold in the tumbling world around her, eardrums shuddering under the hideous scream above.
___Her body struck another branch, and seized it...tasted blood—she must have hit her mouth...
___More shrieks near but not so near; the nearest creature held its cry. She looked—she thought it must be 'up'—toward a shredding thrashing, vision spinning dizzily, a stormy blackness, pounding with a strength and speed like lightning, at the branches in its way.
___She licked her teeth and swallowed blood, and whistled.
___Blue light burst above her—glinting from a razored beak.
___An enormous hunting bird screeched in surprise—in other circumstances its expression might have been amusing!—flinching from the intervening ball of eldritch power. It seemed no monster, other than its size...although its proportions didn't seem quite right...
___The wisp, however, could only bluff not block the creature; despite its seeming composition of a thousand radiant needles, it held neither heat nor mass. A hungry kitten could, in perfect safety, bat it easily.
___The giant killer bird looked very hungry.
___And it saw her in the light.
___She broke the bind and doused the light; without a pause she whistled up another wisp as far away as she could jott.
___The bird's head snapped in that direction. Portunista stilled herself, in fear and dizziness. Take the bait! she silently pleaded, adding spice by drifting the wisplight idly off along a tangent.
___Other avians now descended on the light; but her particular persecutor only pondered skeptically.
___How intelligent were these things...? She had to hurry; her body was cramping from clinging to the branch, unable to gesture for a different jott. She angled the wisp behind the bird, bringing it marginally closer. It turned to watch, but not completely around.
___"Go away!" she desperately commanded, under her breath. She had to hurry, because—!
___"Portunista!" Scourge the man...! Couldn't he tell he shouldn't be coming closer?!
___No, she realized—because he wasn't afraid of anything...
___More shouts distantly rose, shouts for her—but her stomach wasn't curdling for those shouts.
___By now she could determine Jian's direction.
___The raptor could, as well.
___It swiveled its head, locking with lethal precision.
___Her mouth was twisting along with her stomach...
___—she heaved herself into a scrabbling run along the branches, whistling lights in all directions. But not toward him. She heard the creature be-
hind her shriek and dive in chase. But not toward him. She pulled herself through vines and branches, trying to climb and arc around to where the door might be.
___But not toward him.
___"Jian!" she shouted toward the damn-fool man. "Go back! Back to the door! Keep low! Birds will attack you through the trees!" That sounded inane, but she didn't care. "I'll meet you there—just run!" He'd better run...she'd flay him alive if he made her wait for him at the door...!
___She could hear the others, shouting for her and shouting for Jian—
___Wait...no, she couldn't wait!—the rotblooded bird was gaining on her...! but—
___The shouts were coming from the wrong direction!—not from where she thought that Jian had come!
___Snarling, she veered to the right—four talons plowed the wood behind her.
___"Jian! The door has moved—after you went through! Don't listen for me—listen for them! They're where the door is now! Run that way!"
___The creature shrieked again behind her, this time with a different pitch. What—?
___Talons crashed in front of her! She darted left and down, wriggling past more branches in the deepening darkness, tasting wood-chips in her teeth. She must have been detected by another bird, which the first had tried to drive away.
___She ripped a fingernail pulling herself across a branch. Two birds...she had to get around them—
___No! This was a cul-de-sac! Too many branches, too many trunks! Had they driven her here? She had to go back—!
___An avian head smashed through the thinner branches above, striking where she would have jumped. The black eye glared—in triumph? hissing—freezing her blood, freezing her muscles, her instincts overriding her will, crushing her down, yet knowing, knowing, a murderous claw was pulling back to strike—
___"MOVE!!!" she screamed to herself—but there was nowhere left to go—

___—the avian eye blinked twice in wide surprise.
___"bw-SCREE?!" Almost a question...And now a grunted exhalation, from it and from—
___"Hi there, 'ista! Whoa!" Jian leaped cheerfully onto the feathery back, dislodging the balance of the bird, which looked at least as shocked as Portunista, flapping and scratching and slipping its wings and talons every which way, before—
___"Whoa...?" Jian's eyes were popping, too!—he scrambled gripping on the bird's rotating body like a barrel, rolling over, rolling off...
___Rolling off the branch!

[JasonPratt]

Chapter 28: When Nothing Matters (part 2 of 2)

___outraged shrieks...
___One was from the avian; plummeting down with Jian through branches to the ground, far below.
___Portunista thought the other was hers...
___Or was it from behind her? She turned to see an even larger avian, poised to strike, trying to freeze her once again.
___She couldn't tell, exactly, for her sight was full of rippling blurs. Once she blinked, everything was clear.
___"Scream for this," she told the creature, teeth exposed behind her lips, inhaling through her teeth and tongue and crooking her first finger thrusted—peeling off a line of feathers, leaving bleeding skin behind.
___That elicited a scream. Very satisfactory. The creature jumped and flapped away. Not altogether satisfactory, then. But the night was young.
___A corner of her mind reported, calmly and insanely, that her theory was correct: the veckinesis jotting from Gemalfan's disciplex could be applied on parts, not only on the whole. Or, rather, that depended on what the jotter thought as "one whole object." Gemalfan's fight against her might have had a very different ending, otherwise. Jian might now be dead.

___Oh.
___He was dead now.
___So, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

___"Portunista!" Close by and from far away she heard the cry. But it didn't matter. It was only Seifas, tugging at her arm. "Commander, we must hurry!"
___"There is no hurry," she calmly explained, as if to a child, "because it doesn't matter."
___"Wh—? Commander? More aasvogels are arriving! This way to the door! Have you seen Jian?"
___"There he is." She pointed without looking, eyes locked only straight ahead; she carefully picked through branches, moving steadily away from where she pointed... "He is down there. Birds are eating him. On the ground," she added. Yes, the ground was crucial, far away, down there behind her. Where Qarfax's laboratory door must be. The laboratory she had come to find. Jian had wanted that for her, for she had wanted that, and so he now was down there where it was, because...he...she...
___Seifas swore. How amusing. Seifas never swore. She would have to make him swear more often.
___She wondered if these birds could swear.
___The upper door was standing open, straight ahead, not moving now. Her men were standing near the door, not moving either, trying not to draw the birds' attention, she supposed. Didn't they know it didn't matter?
___She smiled.
___Shock was on their faces. Seifas was telling them something. She didn't want to hear what he was telling them. So she didn't listen. She looked around, instead; in the sky, and over treetops. Many birds were flocking to the area. Good.
___But, they weren't looking where they should.
___"So, he's bird juice now, eh?" That was Dagon. Someone else was talking to him, softly, and she couldn't hear.
___She would kill him later. First, she would do other things.
___She pulled her wisplights into the sky, all of them still lit. How interesting—her focus must be growing stronger...
___She whirled them high, up where the birds could see.
___Then she pulled the lights all down to her.
___Now the birds were looking where they should.
___She set the wisps to rest among the branches. But if some went out, it wouldn't matter.
___Nothing mattered.
___Someone shook her shoulder, yelling in her ear. It wasn't Dagon, so she didn't kill him.
___"The birds must all come here," she said; very rational, very clever. That was why she now was here. That was why...Jian now was...
___"If they don't come here, I cannot kill them," she continued; and she sighed contentedly, for she could see the birds were coming now. "You should go back through the door. If you decide to close it, I won't mind. It doesn't matter." Dagon, on the other hand, could stay. She thought it should be fun to throw him with the veckinesis to the birds.
___Whole clouds of monstrous birds...Or fifty. Or twenty. So large, they seemed like clouds...One was floating in, hurting her head with its shriek, watering her eyes.
___"Be quiet," she said. Or maybe she shrieked...so that the bird would understand...She revolved her hands and arms, jotting an Airebelle onto its head. Look at the silly thing, shrieking now! Look at it flop in convulsions! Look at its head exploding slowly! Look at it dropping down through trees! Down onto the ground, where...
___Another bird, the one that she had peeled some feathers from before. How funny, that she had to blink her eyes again to see it clearly. Just like earlier. She didn't silence it; could an aasvogel curse? Why, yes it could, quite fluently, when its eyes were yanked from its skull! The way that Jian's blue eyes were now being yanked from his skull...Its curses made her head hurt more; so she dropped the bind on her first belle, jotting one for this bird now.
___She now understood, however, that Airebelles weren't killing these fast birds fast enough—not when there were so many. So she spread her fingers wide, and clacked her tongue in sharp percussive rhythms. From those fingers shot raw bursts of materia, pentadarts—from the fingers of each of her hands they shot. The air was filled with blood and feathers.
___But there wasn't blood enough, because she hadn't drowned.
___She had watched the older girls so long ago; they had danced in hope of bringing life into the world. She was killing hope of life and hoped to kill. The men were killing with their dances, too: lanky, angular Gaekwar slicing with his rounded axe and rounded discs; Pooralay in bloody patterns drawing in the air with knives; Othon crushing skulls and feet and wings with edged mace; Seifas stabbing fore and back and to the side, the aasagai, the stick of death, teaching aasvogels, the birds of death, what was death. Even Dagon with his falchion...wasn't that amusing?
___No.
___Nothing was amusing anymore. Nothing mattered.
___A temporary lull; the storm of birds grew darker overhead. Quickly precisely jotting, she pulled and pushed each man back through the door. They weren't expecting that! Seifas even cursed again! There they were, back in the Tower, looking at her.
___"Do whatever you like with my brigade," she said. "Because it doesn't matter anymore." There; that would stop them killing all the birds. She hadn't yet killed Dagon, but since nothing mattered, she decided to spare his life. Jian would have spared his life. Though Jian might have tricked him into kissing a shoulderbeast.
___She wouldn't scratch her nose, although it itched.
___She turned her back on them. Plenty of birds were left—and much, much larger ones were on the way! She could kill as many as she wanted...!
___But...what did it matter? There was no point in killing any more—nothing mattered.
___Death descended again.
___She could feel them descending, tons of feathers, skin and razored bone, crushing her already, in anticipation.

___And now at last she had to face the truth...
___...she didn't want to die.

___Because if nothing mattered, then her death or life could never matter; only nothing could await her, if her life could never matter. Only, her life mattered to her: only her life, paper-thin and terrible, between complete incalculable nothing...

___The fact of the matter, now she learned, was that she wasn't strong enough to die.

___So she lashed—not in strength of vengeance: if only her life mattered to her, what could vengeance matter? Not in strength of any purpose; she was her only purpose, and no single point could be strong by itself. She lashed out only in fear, her fear increasing with approaching death, her failure growing with her fear, failure bringing certainty of death. The weight of deadly failure crushed her down, crouching her into a ball, muttering, "I matter; I matter; I do matter..."

___Then into the smothering wall above she screamed—
"Someone tell me that I matter!!"

___The only answer she received was creatures screaming in her face, her face upturned defiantly to hopeless death...
___...that—and, faint beyond the muffling feathers...
___"Ha-HAAAA!"

___Insulted screeches rent the air—a feathered body plowed into the living cloud above her.
___Jian had charged them—riding the back of an aasvogel!
___From the seething cloud of bone and feathers, he stretched out in leaping free, reaching for the branching cluster where she crouched, tumbling down beside her with a grunt; covered in sweat, and dirty feathers, bark and sap and shallow scratches here and there.
___And laughing so completely he could hardly stop to breathe.
___"Where shall I skewer my peacocks again!?" He raised his fist in triumph to the raging birdfight boiling round and overhead, as the hunting avians, driven to the edge by deadly prey, frenzied in destroying one another.
___Not a shout of hatred, but of victory; by daring ingenuity he had fairly played and won.
___He wasn't being spiteful.
___He was saluting them...

___"Ahhhh..." he sighed exhausted in his mirth. "Hi, Commander! We'd better move along, before they see we're here!" He looked around to get his bearings, then began to drag himself into a run to reach the door.
___She couldn't move. She couldn't blink. She wasn't sure she even breathed.
___He stopped before he ran, and turned to check on her.
___"Oh, by the way, Commander, thanks for lighting the area up!" He offered her a hand. "I hadn't any clue where I should nudge my ride! I doubt I could have held on any longer, either. Wow..." he added, looking at the corpses and destruction. "You guys sure were busy. Ouch. Remind me not to fight you!" He laughed again. "Commander...?" he asked—offering still his outstretched hand.

___She didn't take it.
___Pulling herself up, by herself, refusing to look at him, she staggered toward the portal.
___"Sorry, Commander," she heard; and then she felt him push her. Just a little; but she stumbled through the doorway, falling on the landing's floor. The others all had drawn away so she would have more room to come through quickly.
___An aasvogel's talons crunched the branch behind her, piercing with a cry of failure.
___"Heard enough o' that," Pooralay said; while Portunista panted on all fours, she looked up under a bracing arm, and saw the thug was peeling something from the sigil-plate. Behind her, blurring scenery shifted, as the portal 'moved', clearing the door of obstacles, closing with a thump.

___Leaving her in the dark again, hearing her breath—and the breath of the squad around her.
___Especially Jian, in the dark, beside her.

Skip JRP commentary and go to next chapter

[JasonPratt]

Notes from the real author...

When I originally pre-plotted the action of this chapter, long before I got around to writing it, I expected the action to be whimsical and adventurous. In fact, following my habit of mnemonically "storing" plot data by tying it to game or movie soundtracks, I attached one of David Arnold's pieces of music from the James Bond film Tomorrow Never Dies, specifically for the scene where Bond is back-seat driving a souped-up BMW by remote control while trying to avoid being shot. Jian's method of return was even suggested to me by the final minute or so of the piece. (A short clip to give an idea of the music can be found here at Amazon, although for some insane reason the composer David Arnold isn't mentioned as the artist. Probably a rights issue connected with Sheryl Crow having refused to include her title song on the original album, thus necessitating this rerelease.)

Then I started actually writing the scene. Whew. Yeah, that music sure doesn't fit anymore!

(I should maybe add that the famous Bond theme bass guitar noodling isn't the syncopated bass rhythm I have in mind as Jian's "theme music" which he taught the troops as a marching chant, but if someone wants to imagine that I won't care. :) )

A big part of the unexpected difference came from my realization that the whole action sequence needed to be shown from Portunista's mental perspective (no doubt the Preface Author is reading her side of the story and rephrasing it as traditional narrative for his wife here ;) ), and her mental perspective is not entirely healthy to begin with--and then gets worse! Giant killer birds aren't as comical as I was expecting them to be, especially in such a high-stress and low-light environment (although I kept one comic beat when Jian jumps on that one to distract it); there is no way on God's green earth that Portunista would consider her situation in any way whimsically daring and adventurous. And then, once she thinks Jian has died, she loses her mind in grief and shock--but in a murderously vengeful way. That made sense to me as a way she would bounce back after (and still in) a high-threat scary environment where she has just lost someone who meant more to her than she had consciously realized yet.

So, I don't have any music attached to this scene anymore; once I write a scene, if the music I had in mind doesn't fit (and it usually doesn't when I'm done, for various reasons, usually having to do with the final pace of the scene), I rarely reassign it some other music.


Back when I first wrote the scene, I pulled Portunista's "veckinesis" out of nowhere and explained it as something she had been studying from Gemalfan's collected notes--except it hadn't really come out of nowhere, it had been foreshadowed in something Gemalfan had done while sneaking his troops into the area to surprise assault Portunista's brigade back in Section One. When I deleted that information, this and some other things dropped out of being previously established. So in later drafts, I made a point of casually mentioning that Portunista had been studying the technique and had some theories about it she hadn't gotten around to testing (much less using in a combat situation). My reader may remember her mentioning this offhand in a couple of previous chapters.


While I felt like I needed a few environmental action sequences here in the Tower (before more personal threats start showing up in what became the second half of CoJ), I hate the idea of having an action sequence just for the sake of having an action sequence. Portunista's mental collapse and ruminations help offset that, and will factor strongly into what happens afterward throughout the second half of this Section. But we haven't seen the last of that bird Jian jumped on, either... (although when I first wrote the chapter I hadn't yet planned to reintroduce her later).


If anyone among my readers is fan of cryptozoology and muttering "Thunderbird", yep that's what I had in mind. Also, since every fantasy novel is inevitably compared and contrasted to Tolkien, my giant eagles are different. ;) (That could be said about the shoulderbeasts, too.) Thunderbirds or similar folk stories from other world cultures aren't usually the friends of mankind. In that sense, it was Tolkien's giant eagles who were really different!  8-)


Mikonese humans live in the southern hemisphere of their continent, but because most of the story is told based on their points of view, this was something I had a hard time trying to figure out how to get across to the reader. Qarfax's security system here gave me an opportunity for the characters to provide that information to the readers in-story. There are super-subtle implications hidden in how they put what they are saying, though--implications they themselves aren't even aware of! I plan to start bringing this out in Book 4, once the business (and busy-ness) of the initial trilogy is done, but the reader may ask yourself: why exactly would they think of themselves as living on the southern half of their world?!