Caladin’s Climb—Part 32

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          Since returning, the village was uncharacteristically quiet. Or maybe not so much quiet as everyone was avoiding Caladin. That should have bothered him after everything that had happened, but he’d just been happy for the alone time to study. He had a lot on his plate these days. First there was the issue of finding a permanent solution to raising the dead that didn’t turn them into unfeeling monsters. Then he had to find a way to stop his own crown from being used against him. That soldier that had ended up with it after his battle with Hakan could have really threatened him if he’d been more proficient with his lunamancy. That was a risk he’d be foolish to take a second time. Last, there was the matter of contacting the wizards of Tel’Andrid.

          When he’d first received the scepter containing the lost City of Magi, Caladin had assumed it would be a simple matter of reaching out to the archmage he had a vague memory of meeting in his childhood. So far, his attempts to speak with anyone had been met with silence. Either he was being intentionally ignored or something was going on in the city. He liked to think maybe they were trying to pretend the orb of their city was perfectly mundane, but he had a deep-seated fear that the citizens had died off since he last spoke with them. They were trapped inside with no way out. There were so many things that could kill them with no way for anyone on the outside to offer aid.

          While Caladin would have liked to focus his efforts on Tel’Andrid, there was nothing he could do until someone within deigned to speak with him. For now, he kept the orb close at hand and tried to contact them every morning. That would have to suffice until they responded. In the meantime, he returned to studies of his own. In addition to a heightened mastery of oneiromancy from his time in the loop, Caladin had also delved the mind of Champion Hakan enough to gain a near similar mastery of chronomancy. While Hakan hadn’t known the rune signs for any of his spells, his knowledge of the underlying principles of the magic was still useful in Caladin’s attempts to recreate the spells he’d learned with his lithomancy. It only took him a few days using cerebromancy spells to sharpen his memory to reproduce, in rune form, all the chronomancy spells Hakan had known. All except one: Time Loop. It was still so mind bogglingly complex he thought it might take a decade of dedicated study to perfect the runes… and he was now all too frighteningly aware of the consequences of attempting to cast that spell with anything less than absolute perfection.

          As for how Hakan had managed it… according to his memory, it had simply come to him one day during a moment of transcendental meditation. It had arrived fully formed, and even he hadn’t understood how or why the hand gestures worked. How annoying. It didn’t escape Caladin’s notice that probably the only ones that could help explain that spell were the same wizards in Tel’Andrid that presently refused to speak to him. Every time he thought about it, it just made him grumpy. The other chronomancy spells Caladin had reproduced in rune form through examination of Champion Hakan’s memories included: Hasten, Entangled Time Stream, Slow, Time Keeping, Chronal Recall, and Time Travel. Chronal Recall was a neat spell that allowed limited teleportation by returning to a previous state but was almost universally outclassed by most vocomancy spells. Time Keeping was just a cantrip that told the time. Time Travel still required help to cast, but Caladin had no desire to test it. He knew all it would do is send him to a new timeline. The idea of abandoning everyone here didn’t sit well with him, but he still couldn’t help himself from learning the rune forms.

          What Caladin ultimately decided about his studies was that he didn’t need to focus on developing his offense. Pyroclastic Destruction gave him the power of an army of wizards. What he needed was a better defense. He knew he had fast reflexes, but Hakan had proven how fallible it would be to continue to rely on them when he’d surprised and killed Caladin once in the loop. So Caladin’s latest project was the development of the ultimate ward. The ward to end all wards that would protect him from anything.

          Whatever he made would still be limited in its capabilities by the amount of mana he dumped into it, but he wanted to make sure he developed a ward that would be as efficient as possible without leaving any of the same gaps to certain harmonics that he kept exploiting in others. He could go through the harmonics one-by-one and inscribe wards for them, but there was a reason nobody did that. For one, it was expensive. For another, aeromancy wards would suffocate the user in a very short time if left closed. It took some time, but Caladin had come up with solutions to both problems. He called it the Ward Net.

          Rather than a solid barrier, Caladin’s Ward Net surrounded his body in an overlapping mesh of every harmonic. With aeromancy, the net was tightened enough to stop offensive attacks, but not so much that no air at all could get through. After some testing, he determined the ideal thickness of the mesh required for spells of each harmonic to be disrupted enough to be harmless. Most times, it seemed his Ward Net actually disrupted the shape of an established spell, so whatever pieces made it through his wards couldn’t reform. The result was any spells thrown at him would get shredded to harmless shaped mana for half the mana cost it used to take him to block them. In every way but one, it was an improvement over solid wards. That one way? The runes to design and control the Ward Net were hopelessly complicated. After working out the headache it’d been to design the rune form, he could no longer understand it without cerebromancy enhancements on his mind. He created one spell and memorized it: a net that formed a perfect sphere around his body. In addition to being the ideal shape to protect the largest volume with the minimum investment of mana, he found the round shape was good at deflecting attacks, which further reduced the mana consumption.

          Caladin tested his Ward Net on everything from Levin Bolts to poison gas attacks. The only thing it didn’t block was Pyroclastic Destruction. After some testing, even lunamancy could be resisted by weaving modified luminomancy into the barrier. That was the only harmonic he didn’t take a chance with. The outer layer of his net was a solid luminomancy barrier capable of repelling lunamancy. A minor concession for the peace of mind it provided. He wasn’t willing to risk tendrils of lunamancy slipping through and disrupting the deeper layers of the net. The luminomancy along with the net design created an interesting visual effect Caladin hadn’t expected. Rather than the basic indigo for most armamancy, his new ward created a chromatic sheen with all the colors of the rainbow dancing across the surface. It was pretty to look at.

          After more than a week of study and practice, Caladin delivered copies of the new spell to King Philipus. He included scrolls so Philipus’ men could cast it themselves, as well as enchanting instructions in case he wanted to update existing wards for armor.

          “I call it Archmage Caladin’s Ultimate Defense,” Caladin announced when delivering the spell. He’d been tempted to call it a “Ward Net” but worried that would provide too much of a hint as to how it worked.

          “I didn’t realize you were working on a new defensive spell,” King Philipus said. He was at his study, reviewing maps and paperwork Caladin had no interest in. Several of his generals had been in a meeting, but he dismissed them with a wave. He sat down at his desk to look over the scrolls Caladin had given him. “I will make sure it gets out to all my soldiers. Is this a result of your training with Tel’Andrid?”

          “No,” Caladin said. “Just something I came up with on my own. Contacting the City of Magi has proved more challenging than initially supposed. I might have to design a new spell to force my way inside the city, if that’s possible.”

          “A shame,” Philipus said. “So what is it about this defensive spell that makes it better than a normal ward?”

          “It is porous enough to be left active for long periods without risking suffocation, while blocking every known harmonic. Compared to solid wards, the mana cost is halved and its shape deflects most attacks to further reduce mana consumption. Wards are a numbers game. Reducing the cost is the best way to improve them. If your soldiers use this ward instead of the ones they are used to, not only will their protection be improved, but enemy wizards will also have to spend more mana breaking through them.”

          Philipus took the scrolls and studied them as though he could understand them, nodding appreciably. Caladin knew it was just an act because even he struggled to understand the complexity. Each of the standard-looking rune signs was actually composed of dozens of smaller overlapping signs. It was a masterwork so complex it would have been impossible to copy it by hand. Caladin himself just used lithomancy to create copies rather than inscribing the spell on command each time. “I am happy to have this new tool,” Philipus said. He pushed it aside. “But I’m not sure why you created it. I told you to take a break and spend some time with your family. The war is at a stalemate. Lines have been drawn, and it seems Fayse is satisfied not to push into our territory any further. The next battlefront for this war will be at the Conflux, which is still some time away. You’ve earned a break, Caladin. More than earned one.”

          Caladin looked at the floor. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I didn’t have something to work on,” he admitted. “For my next project, I’m going to find a way to protect dreams against—”

          “What about your family?” Philipus asked gently. “Miss Miller told me you have hardly spoken to anyone since removing the minds of your undead family members. You need to deal with this rift, Caladin.”

          “I… I don’t know what to tell them. I had to unmake all the zombies I’d integrated into our village, and now it’s so quiet without them. How can I face them? I am the very cause of their grief!”

          “You’re not being fair to yourself,” Philipus said. His voice was soft, like he thought Caladin was a skittish kitten that might run away if he spoke too harshly. “You didn’t take their family from them. That was my doing. All you did was give them back what was taken from them for a time. Nobody thought it would last forever.”

          “I… know,” Caladin said. The king made too much sense. He navigated matters of the heart like Caladin did his scrolls and magical theory books.

          “The longer you avoid everyone, the harder it will be to reconnect. Seeing you work magic like that scared them. You need to act like everything is normal. Talk to people.” He rested his hand on Caladin’s arm. “I don’t mean to pry into your person life. I’m just worried about you. Consider it a gentle suggestion. I wouldn’t dream of telling you what to do.”

          Caladin looked at the crackling fireplace in the hearth. It was easier than facing those he’d let down, even if it was only by proxy. Caladin hadn’t let King Philipus down yet, but the king had been visiting the village and talking to those he had, and he saw their concerns reflected in his king’s eyes. Philipus had that way about him, of taking on the stresses and worries of other people. “I… will try,” Caladin promised. He didn’t know what that “trying” would amount to. Just thinking about saying something or actually saying it? Maybe he could start with Kelly. At least she always seemed equally rude to everyone.

          “So,” Philipus said with an upbeat tone that indicated he was changing the subject, “tell me about this new dream spell you’re working on.”

          “Right,” Caladin said, happy to discuss anything else. “In my time in the loop, I learned that the realm of dreams is entirely separate from the world we live in.”

          “Every child knows that,” Philipus said.

          “Yes, but I learned that dreams can be exploited to get around all kinds of protections one normally puts in place. Even the Time Loop didn’t stop me from traveling through dreams. I wouldn’t have escaped without them.”

          “What about this new Ultimate Defense spell you just gave me? Surely that protects your dreams.”

          “It does not. It cannot. Targeted oneiromancy spells will of course be blocked, but while one is dreaming, an entirely new class of defense is needed. Skilled oneiromancers can defend their own dreams. Anyone else either has to stay awake or hire an oneiromancer to protect them.”

          “Yes, I am only too aware,” King Philipus said. “My spies report that after you made such a show of invading the dreams of thousands, the usurper queen hired a coterie of oneiromancers to protect her dreams every time she sleeps. It is a shame you were unable to kill her during that loop, as it seems you will never again get the chance.”

          Caladin shook his head. “That was never an option,” he said. “She wasn’t asleep during the loop. It was daylight in Eldesia, and I couldn’t do anything about that. If I tried to wait it out, the loop would reset after an hour. I was lucky her chamberlain was sleeping at the time. She was the closest I got.”

          “Could you not invade the dreams of another close confidant instead?” Philipus asked. “It would certainly solve a number of problems if she were supplanted as queen.”

          “Traveling between dreams is not such a precise thing,” Caladin explained. “To get lucky enough to randomly arrive in a specified place like that would likely take years. Years better spent on other pursuits. We would be better off waiting for her to take a tumble down the stairs and break her own neck.”

          Philipus sighed. “Very well, I won’t pay it any more mind. Perhaps it would be best to put you on the front lines of the war effort to crush her armies if the fighting starts back up. Our numbers are small, but as soon as we are able, I would like to start up an offensive of our own.”

          “And what about the council?” Caladin asked. “Did you hear from the dwarves?” The dwarf nation of Kundreil was the last vote Haedenia would need to force a spot on Fayse’s new shadow council. Without that protection, there was a real risk that she would seize control at the next Conflux and have her champion wish Haedenia and all its inhabitants dead. There wasn’t a spell Caladin could cook up that would protect against that.

          “Word spread to King Draug about how you crushed the champions in Setsya and Kreet,” Philipus answered. “He seems interested in testing you against one of his champions, but the last message I received mentioned they were hosting a small tournament to decide who would get the honor of facing you. They might be stalling. The spies I have in Kundreil are few, but the rumor is the champion from Truntstown is favored. Perhaps we will have an answer soon.”

          “They still want to fight me?” Caladin asked. “Even after hearing about Pyroclastic Destruction? Surely they don’t think they have anything that can stand against it.”

          Philipus shrugged. “Who can say? I assume they would have given a different response, were that the case. Like I said before, it may all just be bluster and stalling tactics. My new chamberlain tells me Fayse was involved in back-channel discussions with the dwarf king about a cooperative assault against this fortress. She was offering to carve up my new kingdom between them after my defeat. That plan may have been abandoned now that Lady Hateno joined my court, but we have to consider the dwarves may be planning some manner of sneak attack as soon as you leave.”

          Caladin rubbed his chin. For all his cleverness, betrayals like that never occurred to him. “Huh, I didn’t think of that,” he admitted. “Is that why you’ve been keeping me close at hand?”

          “Part of it,” Philipus said. “It is no secret you are a formidable obstacle to anyone attempting to challenge my domain.”

          “Well, I can’t stay here forever,” Caladin said. “If the next time I take a stroll through the woods, you’re going to risk getting attacked, we have to do something about that. I’m only one person.”

          “So you agree,” King Philipus said. He steepled his hands before him seriously, elbows on his desk. “I did have an idea how to address this issue. I wasn’t sure how to ask you about it.”

          “Yes?”

          “If you were to teach Pyroclastic Destruction to a few of my soldiers, I think we would be well defended in your absence. They wouldn’t need to master it to your degree, but even a single casting might be enough to dissuade an attacking army.”

          Caladin frowned. “That is… an extremely dangerous spell,” he said. “I’m not sure how comfortable I am letting anyone else learn it. They could teach it to someone else, and someone else… You see how it could get away from us? You have spies in Fayse’s court. What if she has spies in our court?”

          “She almost certainly does,” King Philipus agreed. “But what if we are careful? Just one or two of my closest generals. Or perhaps just me. Surely, you trust that I will be responsible with such a spell?”

          Caladin took a deep breath as he considered that. “To be honest, I’m not sure you could learn it. You would need to be able to simultaneously cast in two different harmonics without their interference patterns collapsing. Do you think that’s something you could manage?”

          The gentle king just smiled and shook his head. “Alas, my talents have always been in statecraft, not magecraft. I wasn’t even aware it was possible to learn more than one harmonic until you came along.” He spread his hands, palms up. “Perhaps there’s a simpler solution? Why don’t you make me one of your spell scrolls? Just a single one. For emergencies. I could keep it on my person and not let anyone else touch it. I’m sure I could manage a spell scroll.”

          “That could work,” Caladin said thoughtfully. “Ideally, I’d want you to be able to cast the spell multiple times.”

          “Ideally,” Philipus agreed.

          “But a scroll finding its way to Fayse…”

          “Always a risk,” Philipus finished. “That was why I thought one would be best. If it’s just one, I could keep it reasonably safe on my person.”

          Caladin frowned. “It’s more than just that. I’m not sure I’m ready to give you even a scroll of the spell.”

          “I understand more time might be necessary to establish the trust to—”

          “It’s not trust,” Caladin said. “It’s education. I’d need to spend a lot of time with you teaching you how to use the spell safely. You could destroy this entire castle if you use it wrong. It might honestly be the most dangerous spell ever created.”

          King Philipus shook his head. “Surely, the entire castle wouldn’t be at risk. I’ve seen you use the spell and—”

          “You do not know how little mana I put into it,” Caladin said, interrupting the king. “At full power it can turn entire cities to ash in a single cast.”

          “Oh, my. Umm… yes, perhaps some safety features ought to be in order. Take as much time as you need to develop those.”

          After that, one of the king’s generals came back in with a pressing update. Caladin excused himself and headed back to the village. Someone had finally gotten around to giving it a name, but Caladin couldn’t bring himself to use it. It felt too much like self-aggrandizement to call his home “Caldenia”. He would have ordered people to stop using the name if he thought it would do any good. When he got back to the tent he slept in, he tried to sleep. His mind wouldn’t stop buzzing. He couldn’t stop thinking of all the people he’d let down, from Lenny to his father. After months of searching, he’d still never found even a scrap of his father’s remains he could use to revive him. He still wondered if he hadn’t been off in the woods practicing magic if he could have saved his father and the rest who were butchered. Or maybe he there would have just been more people for his own magic to kill.

          Rather than continue to toss and turn, Caladin used Sleep Walk on himself to get back to studying. When used properly, he could barely notice the difference between true wakefulness and the false slumber of sleep walking through the night. Maybe his mind wasn’t quite as crisp and logical as it otherwise might be, but it was worth it not to have to face his dreams. Instead, he could spend the night trying to shield his dreams from invaders. If that failed, he could always fall back on another pointless slog trying to cycle through permutations until he stumbled across Brorn’s secret method of manufacturing synthetic souls. That was the kind of busy work best done while half his mind was asleep.

          He was halfway through constructing a dream demon that would follow him into his slumber and attack any foreign invaders when he heard someone calling his name. Not from outside his tent, but from inside his own head. Cally, the voice said. It sounded feminine and… familiar?

          Caladin looked around his tent. No one was there. Could it be the dream demon he was constructing? Surely not. It wasn’t done yet. It only existed as a silver amulet on his table.

          Are you sleep walking? the voice said. I need to talk to you. Go to sleep properly. Just for a minute.

          “Hello?” Caladin called out. “Is someone there? Am I dreaming?”

          Yes, the woman’s voice said. You are the one who gave me this idea to reach you. But you never go to sleep properly! When you sleep walk like this all I see is a milky haze. It’s impossible to get my bearings. Close your eyes for a minute. This is important.

          Caladin stiffened in his chair. This was exactly the sort of thing he’d been worried about. Someone had invaded his dream. He was lucky he was only half dreaming. There was no telling who it might be. Had he made enemies with any oneiromancers? He activated his Ward Net to prevent any dream invader from casting a spell like Sleep Walk on his body like he’d done again so many hapless victims. He could at least stop them doing that much, if not protect his mind. The lithomancy wards still on his mind should at least stop anyone that tried to access his memories, but it was far from perfect. All it would do was buy him time. He would have to end the Sleep Walk spell and try to get through the night without it. If he put his mind to it, he thought he might be able to get a spell together that could completely negate the need for sleep. That would be safest. What had he been thinking? Protect his dream? Bah! He wouldn’t have to protect them if he just never had them in the first place.

          Hey, what are you doing? the woman’s voice said. I just want to talk. You’ve met me before, Cally. I’m not here to attack you.

          “Oh? Just talk?” Caladin asked. “Sure, just give me a minute to get to sleep.” He rolled his eyes at how gullible this person seemed to think he was. If they were looking to dominate him, they’d have another thing coming. He’d become quite the proficient dream walker during his time in the loop. He quickly finished the enchantment for the dream demon and placed it on a necklace, close to his heart.

          What’s taking so long? the woman asked.

          “Ah. See? I was almost asleep just then and you interrupted me,” Caladin lied.

          Sorry! she replied. I’ll be quiet.

          Caladin linked up his Ward Net to his belt to feed on the mana, then let himself slip into true slumber with his new demonic totem beating in time with his heart. As a quick work-around, he’d set it to borrow its intelligence from him, which required skin-to-skin contact to continue working.

          Caladin once again returned to the familiar campsite he remembered so well. There were no bodies this time at least, but there were bloodstains all over the ground as a reminder of the carnage that had taken place. Rising out of the ground behind him was a monster composed of a swarm of black tentacles. It was the size of a two-story house with glowing red eyes. It loomed over him. Protectively. Menacingly.

          A woman was waiting for him. Her form was hard to pin down. Her skin color, hair style, and attire kept shifting from one second to the next. She was tall as a giant, with skin of gold. She was average height, slender, with a short pixie cut of dark brown hair. She had the muscles of an orc, her hair a wild puff of bright pink. The only thing that stayed constant was the bone structure of the eyes and mouth at the center of her face. Those eyes… they studied Caladin deliberately, then glanced at the demon standing over his shoulder. Had he seen soft brown eyes like those before? That seemed to ooze affection and caring? It was hard to imagine they meant him harm, but that didn’t mean he was going to take any chances.

          “What’s going on?” Caladin demanded of the woman. “Who are you, and how did you get inside my dream?”

          “Promise you won’t sick that demon on me first,” the woman said. “Otherwise, I’ll just go. Getting ripped apart in a mindscape isn’t the way I saw myself dying.”

          “Don’t give me a reason to, and I won’t,” Caladin promised her.

          “Do you remember me?” the shifting woman asked. “It’s Andrea.”

          “Somehow I feel like I do, but I doubt I’d forget meeting someone so… mercurial.” Caladin gestured at her general appearance. “How are you even doing that? Are you hoping I won’t recognize you? Do you work for Brorn? Fayse?”

          The woman looked down at herself. Her mouth opened in surprise. “Oh. Sorry!” she said. “It’s hard to hold one form when I’m dreaming.” She closed her eyes for a moment and her form settled onto that of a human woman with shoulder length blonde hair. Her clothes stopped shifting on blue jean overalls with dozens of pockets sewn into the front, smudged with grease stains. “Do I look more familiar now?” she asked. “You were little when we met. I had to borrow your body for a minute. I was in a hurry, so the spell was kind of sloppy. Some of my memories might have been left behind. Sorry about that.”

          Caladin narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the woman that called herself Andrea. The memories she was apologizing for could very well have explained his intuitive understanding of runes. He didn’t like the implication. “Why would it be hard for you to hold one form?” he asked.

          “It’s an evanesor thing,” Andrea said. She shrugged, like that was supposed to explain it away.

          “What’s an evanesor?” Caladin asked.

          “It’s what I am,” Andrea replied, gesturing to her chest. “You might know us as shapeshifters. Or not. I think shapeshifters went extinct in the outside world during Belorian’s reign.”

          “Outside world… Wait! You’re from Tel’Andrid!” Caladin blurted out.

          Andrea chuckled to herself. “I am,” she said with a smile. “And I’m there right now. This is the only way we can talk. Dreams are a special place.”

          “Because the dream world exists outside of everything,” Caladin finished for her. He’d figured out that much during his year stuck in the loop.

          “Precisely,” Andrea agreed.

          “But you said you were in my mindscape,” Caladin said, “so wouldn’t it be more accurate to say the dream exists within the mind? That’s why it’s so dangerous to have you here.”

          Andrea shook her head. “It’s the opposite, actually. Call it whatever you want: mindscape, dreamscape, dream world, Nowhere. It exists in a dimension outside of space and time. Your mind takes you here when you dream. Without the presence of dreams, this plane is nothing and nowhere. Your imagination gives it shape.” She nodded to the demon behind him. “It can even create monsters, if you want it to. But we’re not in your mind, just surrounded by things your mind created. Not everyone returns to the same space every night, but most people do. Your personal mindscape is what we call the zone of Nowhere that you return to each night. You are not nearly as vulnerable here as you think you might be. Anything you wish to discard when returning to your waking body, you can discard. If someone tries to hitch a ride on your consciousness? You’re free to kick them out, if you know how.”

          Caladin had done exactly that thousands of times during the loop. “Uh, what would happen to your passenger if you kicked them out?”

          “They would probably find their way back to their own mindscape.”

          “And if they didn’t?”

          Andrea shrugged. “They would get lost here. It’s been known to happen. It’s very sad. They usually end up going mad and wandering from dream to dream, tormenting those that still live. As you can see, I am the more vulnerable one here. Not you.”

          “So it seems,” Caladin said, while silently screaming at himself for his recklessness. He’d been lucky. He hadn’t even realized the risk he’d put himself in jumping from dream to dream. Several times he’d had to wrestle control of someone’s body from them while transferring from their dream. He’d had no idea what would have happened if he’d lost any of those struggles. It could have been worse than death.

          Andrea gestured to the ruined camp. There were blood stains everywhere, but no actual bodies this time. “You’re clearly harboring a lot of guilt. I cleaned up the bodies while I was waiting for you. I… didn’t think you’d mind.”

          “I don’t,” Caladin said. “So… how big is my mindscape?”

          “Infinite,” Andrea said. “Everyone that ever has been or ever will be gets an infinitely large piece of an infinite expanse of nothing to breathe life into. You are welcome to explore it as much as you want. The act of exploration will only ever create new places. You will never reach the edge. Most people barely use the space that’s given to them. Like this travesty of a dream, for instance. I can tell you’ve used it a lot based on how hard it was to get rid of those bodies.”

          “Very interesting,” Caladin said. “And I’d love to keep talking about this, but is there a reason you contacted me?”

          “You tried to contact me first,” Andrea said. “According to the report I read, you’ve been shouting at our city for most of a week straight.”

          “Well, nobody was answering,” Caladin said sheepishly. “Can you guys feel it when the city is shaken? Does my voice boom over everything?”

          “Nothing like that,” Andrea assured him. “We have a watchtower we use to see the outside world. I was in charge of it for a while when you were a kid, but I’m not anymore. That’s why we had to come to dreams to talk. If I hadn’t intercepted that report, I wouldn’t have even known you’d taken possession of the city.”

          “I’ve only had it for a few days,” Caladin said. “But it was my father’s originally. He found it on a dig when he was a slave, and our master took it from him.”

          “I’m aware. I believe she calls herself Queen Fayse now,” Andrea said.

          “She was only a countess when she took it,” Caladin said.

          “That’s not a coincidence. The city council has been helping her rise to power. They want someone in charge of Eldesia that they can manipulate. If you understood our city’s history, you’d know why. We’re not as… safe in our little pocket dimension as we’d like to be. The current administration has decided that working with unsavory types like Queen Fayse is sometimes necessary to ensure our survival. Nobody’s particularly fond of Fayse, but they understand her motivations. They like that. You, on the other hand? You’re far too much of an enigma. Jaeryl is afraid you’re going to try to disrupt the plan he’s spent a decade putting into practice.”

          “What plan?” Caladin asked.

          “To tame the Conflux,” Andrea answered. “To make sure your world gets so bogged down in petty squabbles over politics nobody ever uses the Conflux against us again. I’m not really involved in the decision making processes anymore. Technically, I have a seat on that stupid city council, but I’d rather eat a wrinkly lemon than attend their meetings.”

          “I heard about that plan,” Caladin said. “I thought it was Fayse’s plan. You’re saying that Tel’Andrid is pulling the strings?”

          “Who else?” Andrea asked. “We’re insulated from the consequences. Nobody in their right mind would want that arena to be functional. Wishes are incredibly dangerous. Here in Tel’Andrid, we are shielded from the effects of almost all wishes. That’s why we established our city in the first place. You don’t realize how chaotic things got during the Age of Gods. Jaeryl and the council don’t care what happens out there as long as the tiny number of wishes that have the ability to affect us never come to pass. I just know trying to manipulate everything from the shadows like this is going to blow up in their faces one day, but they won’t listen to anything I have to say.” Andrea sighed deeply and fell back into an overstuffed couch made of cloth-of-gold, which appeared to catch her fall.

          “Tell me everything about this plan,” Caladin said. “My king is trying to force his way onto that secret council.”

          “Victus’ little brother?” Andrea asked. “He the one that started that little upstart nation? What is he calling it, Haedenia?”

          “Yeah, you heard?”

          Andrea waved a hand. “Like I said, I do sometimes read the reports. More often I’m interested in the ones they want to stop me from reading, but hearing what you Outsiders are up to is common news in Tel’Andrid. They actually have a betting pool going down in the Fairmend district about whether Haedenia will survive the next Conflux. It’s 5-to-1 that you will, if you were wondering.”

          “I wasn’t,” Caladin replied. “What about getting on the council? Do you think that will work?”

          Andrea shook her head. “Not a chance. You’d be better off joining with one of the existing members. Becoming a vassal state of Setsya makes the most sense. I can’t understand why your king doesn’t just do that. You actually had good relations with them until recently.”

          “Why can’t we get a seat on the council?” Caladin asked. “King Philipus thinks we can force them to let us on.”

          “You can try,” Andrea said. She leaned back into her cushions and stretched lazily. “I don’t recommend it. There’s already a plan to get rid of Haedenia.”

          “What is it?” Caladin shouted. “You have to tell me!”

          “I said they had a plan. Not that they told me what it was,” Andrea said. “It doesn’t sound like it would even be that hard. A few fortresses in the woods and a population of less than a thousand? That’s hardly a duchy, let alone a whole nation.”

          “I didn’t know it was that few,” Caladin admitted. “But that hardly matters. We can fight. And they have me.”

          “You’ve done well for yourself as a hedge-wizard,” Andrea said. “Apprenticing under Brorn was brilliant. Did you know there are weekly newsletters on your life story in Tel’Andrid? You’re the most interesting person to come along since Brorn himself.” She raised an eyebrow. “But you’re no archmage. That’s no secret to any of us. I would know. I trained under Archmage Genethor. You’re just embarrassing yourself with all this archmage nonsense. I don’t know if Jaeryl got around to telling Fayse your secret yet, but your mindscape reeks of lithomancy.”

          “I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Caladin said. What else could he say? Lying about his magic had become second nature to him. If his secret was discovered, he’d be done for. “This, uh, Jaeryl person. He didn’t tell Fayse this theory of yours, did he?”

          Andrea rolled her eyes. “I said I don’t know. And besides. I don’t actually care. Trick whoever you want into thinking you’re an archmage. None of you Outsiders would know the difference. Just don’t go up against Fayse and her council. Archmage Jaeryl is the real deal and he won’t take kindly to his plan being disrupted even a little. He may be trapped in Tel’Andrid, but you’re a newborn babe compared to him. He’s been an archmage longer than Brorn’s been alive.”

          “I can hold my own,” Caladin insisted. “I’ve been creating my own spells.”

          “I doubt a few spells are going to matter,” Andrea said. “A true archmage can bend reality itself to their will. No spells required. They can turn thought to action. Can you do that?”

          “No,” Caladin admitted. “But I can cast spells without hand signs. From every harmonic.”

          “Huh,” Andrea said. “That’s actually a pretty good trick. How did you manage something like that with just lithomancy?”

          “I’ll tell you,” Caladin said. “If you agree to train me in the ways of magic.”

          Andrea snorted. “Do you have any idea how illegal that is for me to do? That’s right up there with murder on the list of things we’re not supposed to do.”

          “Do you care? I thought you hated your council and this Jaeryl guy?”

          She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm. Good point. How would they even find out? Ha! I just… I don’t know. You’re talking about a ton of work on my part. I’d love to stick a thorn in Jaeryl’s side, but not enough to waste a decade of my life doing it. No offense intended, but I’ve seen the magic you Outsiders use and it’s like cavemen banging sticks together. We still speak the language of magic in here. The collected knowledge of your entire world can probably only scrap together a few words, and I bet half of those are known by Brorn. It’s a neat idea, but a waste of time. You’ll probably be deleted by the next Conflux before we can make any serious progress.”

          “How about this,” Caladin said. “If I can show you something about magic that you don’t know, you agree to teach me.”

          Andrea scoffed. “And what do I get if you can’t?”

          “I don’t know,” Caladin said. “I’ll… give you something you want from the outside world. I don’t know how I would give it to you, but I’m sure there’s something you might want.”

          “Books?” Andrea asked. “Could you memorize and recite to me some of your story books?”

          “Sure,” Caladin agreed. “I have a direct line to a king, even if he’s a weak one. I’m sure I could get my hands on any book I wanted.”

          “It’s a deal,” Andrea said. “Go ahead. Tell me your deepest, most profound magical secret, and I’ll explain how we’ve already got an entire library of knowledge on exactly that subject.”

          “Okay,” Caladin said. “How about a demonstration? You said I control this place, right? That should mean I can cast a spell, just like in the real world.”

          “Close enough,” Andrea answered. “This section of your mindscape is pretty well worn. Magic will work the way you think it should. If it doesn’t, I’ll know the difference. Don’t worry.”

          “Okay,” Caladin said. “How about this? Combination magic.” He waved his hand and inscribed a combination spell that used elements of cryomancy and pyromancy to create blue flames that froze instead of burned. He threw his frost-flame spell into the firepit of the camp site.

          “Seen it,” she said. “Not even that original.”

          “But—”

          “I know combination magic like that seems like a big deal to Outsiders, but it’s standard fair in Tel’Andrid. I’m a master of three harmonics myself and can combine elements freely between them. Anyone with more than one harmonic earns the title of Magi. It’s not a particularly rare achievement among our people.”

          “Fine,” Caladin said. “What if I want to use a powerful destruction spell without harming me or you?”

          “Just imagine a barrier around us that can’t be destroyed,” Andrea explained. “Should be simple enough.”

          Caladin triggered an expanded sphere of his new Ward Net spell, imagining it to be totally indestructible instead of just particularly strong. It was large enough to encase both himself and Andrea on her golden couch. She nodded at the glowing orb. “Fancy,” she said. “Is that luminomancy? Most Outsiders don’t bother to protect themselves against lunamancy.”

          “Well, most of them don’t have my experience,” Caladin explained. “Get ready, because this is going to get big.” He held out his hand and threw out the biggest Pyroclastic Destruction he’d ever attempted to cast, both in and out of dreaming. He saw a brief flash of light, then nothing. All that was left was he and Andrea in their tiny sphere of protection. Beyond it was only darkness, in its purest form.

          “What happened?” Caladin asked.

          “It seems like… you destroyed the mindscape we were in,” Andrea answered. She looked out at the darkness, forgetting herself and shifting to different forms again. After a moment, she whistled appreciatively. “Impressive damage,” she said. “I think you might have permanently destroyed that nightmare you’ve been having.”

          “Is that good?” Caladin asked. “Have you seen magic like that before?”

          “Hmm. No. I haven’t. I’m not sure we’d even be allowed to test a spell like that in Tel’Andrid. Small space, you understand. It looks like you would have atomized the entire city if you’d used something like that back home. What kind of spell was that?”

          “I call it Pyroclastic Destruction,” Caladin said. “Was it new? Does it count as something you haven’t seen before?”

          “I know spells like it,” Andrea hedged. “But nothing that powerful. Have you actually cast a spell that powerful before?”

          “Once,” Caladin said. “I was in a Time Loop at the time, so I don’t think it counts.”

          “Good thing you were, or they might have ended up redrawing the maps. I’ve never seen this much destructive power outside the Conflux. Is that spell really so powerful in the real world?”

          “If you want the answer to that,” Caladin said, “you’ll have to agree to teach me.”

          Andrea rolled her eyes. For an apparent master of magic beyond Caladin’s comprehension, she sure had the attitude of an annoyed young lady. “Ugh, fine. I guess a deal’s a deal.”

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