unexpected.’
Pug felt another presence nearby. ‘I think our host is here. I’ll return momentarily.
Pug pulled his consciousness out of the matrix and turned to see an elderly Pantathian in a finely-made red robe with black trim now being thoroughly soaked by the intensifying rain. ‘You are Pug,’ the Pantathian said.
‘You are Tak’ka,’ returned Pug.
‘It would be false should I say you are welcome here, but we understand that your son’s appearance and now yours are fated, and accept that. Too much of our blood on your hands prevents me from offering more than tolerance and a modicum of comfort.’ He glanced skyward, ‘Though from your son’s willingness to soak in this soon-to-be-freezing rain indicates to me that creature comforts are not very important.’
Pug could not hide his amusement. If the Pantathian was unaware of a human sense of humour, he was naturally wry. ‘Oh, we appreciate comforts and I welcome tolerance. Perhaps at some time in the future we may discuss our past differences, or at least mine with your more murderous kin, but for the moment Magnus’s actions communicate a sense of urgency on his part and I defer to his judgment. As for the wet and cold, we’ve endured worse, and I expect we shall come though this, though a dry towel when we are done would be most welcome.’
Pug couldn’t tell if the creature was amused or not, as he did not understand Pantathian facial expressions. But Tak’ka answered, ‘That much can be done. La’th here will remain to provide for your needs should any arise.’ Without further words, the elder Pantathian turned and left the roof garden.
Pug actually looked forward to having the opportunity to sit and speak with the apparently gentle leader of the Pantathians. He had understood so little of these created beings, these playthings of an ancient dead Dragon Lord, Alma-Lodaka, who had become a goddess to this race.
But for now, Pug returned his attention to his son and re-entered the matrix.
Time became meaningless and Pug realized they stood a real risk of passing out from exhaustion if they didn’t occasionally monitor their real-world existence. Then he wondered how he would know what constituted ‘occasionally’, given the circumstances?
He watched as Magnus probed. He had remained an observer since Magnus had begun this exploration and seemed deft at discovering his way around this analogue of an energy field as well or perhaps better than his father would be.
Pug virtually moved within the matrix without conscious thought to where Magnus probed the massive construct of a castle. It appeared to be a protective barrier constructed entirely of energy, and prodigious amounts of energy at that.
They had tried moving around the barrier and learned that the illusion of size and shape was misleading. There was no ‘around’ nor ‘back’. Anywhere they ceased their ‘movement’ they were still confronted by the red barrier. After much discussion the night before, Pug was observing Magnus attempt to penetrate the barrier. The more obvious choices had been to ‘look’ in one of the windows, but that had proved pointless; there was nothing beyond the ‘window’. Pug deduced that it might have been some mechanism that allowed observation from within, allowing someone or something within the matrix to observe what Magnus and Pug were attempting. But who or what that someone or something might be was beyond their understanding.
Now Magnus was probing the ‘lock’ in the door. Pug struggled to understand the concept. Here was an energy matrix, assembled in such a way as to imply it was a communication of some sort. But it seemed protected in a fashion that whoever placed it here wanted to be certain that only a certain person or group of people might be able to decipher it. That would imply the information was sensitive.
Pug began an investigation of his own, exploring the limits of the matrix while Magus continued his probing of the internal barrier. When he was at last convinced he had begun to understand something of the nature of this odd artefact, he gently contacted Magnus, who withdrew.
In a blink they were both conscious of being in the rain, drenched and chilled. They hurried to the entrance to the garden and found La’th waiting, though the Pantathian seemed on the verge of sleeping. He snapped out of his doze and handed them each a towel. ‘Is there anything you require?’
Father and son glanced at one another. ‘Something hot to drink would be appreciated,’ said Pug. ‘Coffee, tea, chocha, whatever else you might have.’
‘We have tea,’ said the Pantathian and he hurried down the stairs.
‘What concerns me,’ began Pug to Magnus, ‘is the incalculable energy contained within that thing.’
Magnus nodded. ‘Me too. When I first began I concluded that this construct, this matrix, is somehow an extension of the Sven-ga’ri, and I’m convinced it’s their attempt to communicate with us. I just don’t understand why, after all this time, and why here, rather than up in the Peaks of the Quor?’
‘When we unlock that barrier and if we are able to communicate with these beings, then perhaps we will have those answers. As for the first, I speculate that time may be different to them, and perhaps it’s taken them this long to appreciate what manner of beings surround them, and how best to reach out to us. As to why here than there, I do not even care to speculate on that question.’
Pug fell silent as the Pantathian returned with two mugs of hot tea. It was bitter and flavourful and warming and they were both grateful to have it. ‘How are you doing with that barrier?’
Magnus sipped his tea and Pug studied his son for a moment. Unlike his eldest son, William, who bore a strong resemblance to Pug, or like his youngest son Caleb, who resembled his mother, Magnus barely resembled either of his parents, though Pug could see hints of Miranda around the eyes. His face was currently set in a very familiar expression of thoughtfulness as he answered, ‘It’s complex, obviously. It’s constantly changing but I’m beginning to discern a pattern, a repeating sequences of pulses that prevent a casual probe beyond that wall into whatever is hiding behind there. Think of it as a lock, but one that has teeth and grooves within that are moving, and out there somewhere is a key that moves in synchronization with that lock, but any other key or lock pick will merely jam the lock, rendering it useless.’
Pug considered this. After a moment, he said, ‘Still, the matrix did not manifest until you appeared, what, a day after you arrived?’
‘About that,’ agreed Magnus.
‘So we might conclude that there’s a reasonable expectation that you are either supposed to be in possession of that key or able to pick that lock, correct?’
Magnus smiled. ‘Were our positions reversed in this conversation, Father, what would you say in answer to that?’
Pug smiled. ‘I’d say you were making rash assumptions. It could be that the arrival of any magic-user triggers that response.’
‘Or any non-Pantathian,’ offered Magnus.
‘Or demons on the island, or a flock of seagulls flying overhead …’
‘We should get back,’ said Magnus. ‘We have a few hours of daylight left, and while it’s cold now, it’s going to be brutal after the sun goes down. And I feel as if I’m almost ready to try to “pick the lock” as you say.’
Pug followed his son out to where the now totally soaked and useless cushion sat, and watched as Magnus sat on it anyway, and observed him enter his trance state.
A sudden concern struck Pug in the pit of his stomach as he recognized that his last living child was about to embark on what was perhaps a very dangerous exploration of magic. He quickly inventoried his own established spells of protection and realized he’d got sloppy lately.
Pug had almost died because of his own arrogance when confronting the demon Jakan when he was in the guise of the Emerald Queen. That near-death experience had delivered a harsh lesson, but it had proved instructive in preparing for potentially lethal outcomes.
Pug decided not to join his son in the matrix exploration but began to construct a spell of protection for the two of them. Of all spell-craft at Pug’s disposal, the most difficult was this, a spell to protect without warning. The difficulty arose that in the time between an attack manifesting itself and the target becoming aware, the target could already be dead before the defence could be deployed. Against arrows and sword, fire and stone, there was no way to protect without advance warning. But against magic there was always a momentary gathering of energies, sometimes less than a few seconds, yet always there before the magic was unleashed. It was that fact
