Phoenix and Ashes

changed.

He became—Fire. Fire incarnate. A sexless creature of insubstantial flame, gazing at her with penetrating blue eyes, eyes the color of a hot gas flame. His voice remained the same, however.

'I think we can dispense with this, child,' he said, and with a casual gesture, the maze, the flat blue sky, the flat green earth, were all gone. In their place—a world of fire, fire which not only did not burn her, but which, when it touched her, felt like a cool caress. 'You are not a Master, not yet—I am not compelled to obey you, nor required by mutual bargain.'

She shook her head. 'I know that,' she replied, swallowing. 'And I know I'll be studying all my life to really understand my powers. I was foolish to think I could Master all the cards in a few days, but—but I think I could have gotten enough to have broken free of Alison.'

'You are in great danger,' the Fire Elemental repeated. 'And the maze we were in is nothing to the maze that holds you tight in tangles of magic.'

'Yes I am,' she agreed, shivering. 'I don't think I can escape from this by myself. I need help. Will you, can you help me?'

'That depends,' the Elemental said, measuringly. 'You must show by your intelligence that you deserve help.'

Fire—most difficult of the Elements. Dangerous to try and control. More dangerous to lie to. But win its loyalty—

'I have to break the coercions,' she said flatly. 'And I have to break free of here, and get back to the real world again.'

But the Elemental simply regarded her gravely. Finally, 'Or—?' he prompted.

Fire is the hardest to hold, most difficult to understand, likeliest to rebel, and is impressed only by—intellect. This Elemental was showing remarkable patience by those standards. She pummeled her brain. What could she do to get out of the coercions? If she broke them, Alison would know. She'd already tried stretching them. What else was there? If she looked around herself a certain way, she could actually see them here, tangling around her in a rat's nest of bindings like—

She blinked, and looked again. Like—a— maze—just as he told me.

She took a deep breath. She couldn't solve the thing in the 'real' world, but—here?

'What happens if I thread my way out of the coercions?' she asked the Fire Elemental.

He grinned broadly, and nodded, the flames that were his hair brightening. 'Then her spells will no longer hold you, and yet, they will not be broken. So she will not be aware that her spells no longer hold you. But do you think you can solve this?'

'I have to,' she replied grimly. 'I'll see if wall-following will do it. It might take longer, but it's the surest.'

She focused her concentration until the tangles of the spells that confined her became clear, concentrated further, willing the tangles to take on the tangible form of walls and passageways.

The magician imposes his will, his way of seeing on the Plane of Magic, and the Plane reflects what he wills. She couldn't will herself out of this, because the mind and will that had set the spells was stronger than she was. But she could force it to take on a semblance of something she could deal with.

She found herself at the heart of another maze. She didn't like the look of the walls that surrounded her, either; they were dark and repellent and she didn't want to touch them, but wall-following meant keeping one hand on either the left or the right-hand wall and following it, no matter what, and after a moment of thought, she put her hand on the left-hand wall, and stepped into the shadowy, intimidating darkness of the maze itself.

The Fire Elemental came with her, which surprised her a little, though it was heartening to have company. She hadn't expected it, and since he brought light with him, this meant she could actually see where she was going.

That was an advantage. Seeing the walls that made up the maze clearly was not an advantage.

They felt like something alive—but not pleasant. Faintly warm, pulsing, a touch slimy. But worse than the feel was the look; a suggestion effaces there, and not nice faces, either. She didn't ask if the walls were alive; that was fairly obvious. 'Can they feel?' she asked instead.

'Oh yes,' came the reply; grim, and with a dangerous edge to it.

'Are they in pain?' she continued. Not that she wanted to know— except that she did.