Portal-Land, Oregon. Chapter 31
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31
The distant sounds of a Mozart symphony told me I wasn’t dead. Not that I think there’s no music in the afterlife. I just think the performances would be better.
This was his fortieth symphony, and I thought the violins were overdoing it a tad, and that the conductor needed to…
Wait. When did I learn so much about…
Oh. Right. Zarindaro. The African man with the ritual scarring on his cheeks, and the complete lack of patience if my attention drifted during his lessons.
Zarindaro had insisted that learning classical music was critical to the development of a Locksmith. Taught us to appreciate the subtleties of the audio side of the energies we worked with.
So I was alive. And awake.
My teeth were gritted against the expectation of pain. Took me a moment to realize that my body wasn’t screaming in agony.
I could feel some coolness to the air, along with the faint scent of roses. Enough sensation to tell me I … was I in a robe? A blanket?
I knew whatever surface I lay on was soft enough. That was something.
Wait.
Sound!
I could hear!
That got me sitting up so fast the robe fell open to the waist. It was white and fluffy and generic in the way that it probably had a hotel logo on it somewhere.
I was sitting on a softly glowing, white crystal couch on the bottom level of Locksmith Central: the big, prismatic crystal cavern.
I just couldn’t think of it as huge anymore. Not after that nychtera…
“He’s awake! He’s awake! He’s awake! He’s awake!”
Magellan’s happy barking, from just below the cushions. He was his normal beagle self again, which I found reassuring.
I reached down to pat his head and his tail started going fast enough to power the whole Portland metro area for a month.
He turned, though, and kept up his litany as he ran off.
I smiled at him as my eyes told me the rest of my situation.
Two small doracha — by which I mean they were no bigger than normal otters — were galumphing right at me from over near the enormous table, at speed. Brikatika’s offspring.
I hadn’t gotten a good look at them before, but I could still tell who they were by their coloring, the pattern of subtle reds in the browns that showed a blend of Brikatika’s fur patterns with those of Rakata, his mate.
Brikatika and Rakata were just behind their children, though the adults weren’t running. Their whiskers twitched pleasure at me though, and their black eyes smiled.
The smaller doracha leaped. Knocked my breath right out of me.
I think one of the happiest moments of my life had to be having two happy young doracha paw and nuzzle me while I tried to get my breath back.
I was laughing like a fool by the time Janna and Vasco approached, following Magellan.
A nychter was with them. One of the eight-foot-tall variety of bat creatures…
K’lakak. I recognized the subtle patterns of his fur. He’d been Chiron’s second…
“Good to see you awake,” Janna said, smiling as she stared me right in the bare chest, while Brikatika and Rakata retrieved their young and stayed nearby.
I adjusted the robe. Sat with both feet on the softly glowing, white crystal floor.
“What happened?” I asked. “I remember fighting Chiron—”
“You beat him,” Vasco said, smiling. “Interesting trick, pulling him through a portal to someplace he’d be off-balance and wouldn’t have room to fly.”
K’lakak drummed his fingers on his furry yellow belly, in a gesture I thought indicated disapproval.
“Of course, I wasn’t sure where you went,” Vasco said. “And I had to find out quick. If the end of the fight wasn’t witnessed by Chiron’s guards—”
“Then they would have been within their rights to kill the doracha,” K’lakak said. “At least, as I have been given to understand the situation.”
“No,” I said, and Vasco and Janna said it at the same time.
Janna, as Lady of Portals, finished the thought.
“If Chiron had killed Scott, it would not have, itself, been a treaty violation. That was the only concession given, when Scott issued the challenge. The standoff would have continued.”
K’lakak clashed his teeth together a few times, then spoke.
“Chiron was a fool. He should never have tried his wing at smuggling. He should never have involved doracha. He should never—”
“And you knew nothing about any of this?” I asked, not trying to hide my disbelief.
“He claims he was kept in the dark,” Vasco said, “and we can’t prove otherwise.”
“My innocence, however, does not absolve the dorach of his role,” K’lakak said. “He did violate the treaty by smuggling.”
“He did,” Janna said, the steel in her voice belying the youth of her appearance. “And it is my place to address that violation, not yours. Now say what you would say, and then leave.”
“Very well.” K’lakak stepped closer. Snapped his wings out wide, then tucked them back in. “I lead the nychtera of this region now. Not Chiron. And I tell you that Chiron struck a blow to the pride of all nychtera through his deeds. Pride you have helped restore by defeating him in single combat.”
K’lakak cast a baleful eye toward Janna. “Locksmiths are not allowed to accrue debt, but if you, Scott Angus Eagleson, ever find you have need for anything, the nychtera will aid you. This is my word.”
Before I could so much as acknowledge that, K’lakak leapt into the air and flew off.
He left through a portal in the green section of wall, high up above.
“Think he means all that?” I asked.
“It’s a point of pride to him,” Vasco said. “So, yes.”
“Think he didn’t know about the smuggling?”
“Not a chance,” Janna said. “It would be a blow to his pride, if their leader could have pulled off such a big undertaking without his knowing. Problem is, it’d be an even bigger blow to get caught for involvement.”
Brikatika stepped up to me then.
“We can never thank you enough for all you have done for us. I owe you for saving my life before you became a Locksmith, but beyond any debts, I would be proud if you counted me a friend.”
So much sincerity in those little black eyes that I couldn’t speak. I tried to tell him that without words.
He clasped my right hand in both of his, then gave me his awkward attempt at a handshake.
As soon as he finished, Rakata did the same. Then both of their children.
“We are ready,” Brikatika said to Janna. “And thank you for allowing us that moment of thanks.”
Janna turned and opened a deep blue portal that smelled of melted cheese and sounded like a soprano holding a high C.
One more happy twitch of their whiskers toward me, and the four doracha departed.
For a moment, the only sound was the symphony, quiet. Almost respectful.
“Where did you send them?” I asked.
“Venice,” Janna said, giving me a big smile.
Magellan barked happily, not saying anything more than expressing happiness.
I laughed as it all came together in my head, and Vasco and Janna smiled as I spoke my thoughts.
“They had to be banished, for Brikatika’s role in the smuggling, but he was terrified that if they went away from earth, they’d be found and killed.”
“Exactly,” Janna said. “The treaty specifies that smugglers are banished. And the general assumption — and precedent — is for banishment to be from this world. But Brikatika helped crack the smuggling ring and take down all of the containment rocks, as well as several dozen gossaks.”
“When did—”
“The rest of us have been busy while you were recovering,” Vasco said.
“How long was I out?”
“Only about three hours,” Janna said. “Cleanup was top priority. I put everyone on it.”
“So you banished Brikatika from Portland, but not from earth. Clever.”
“Thank you,” Janna said, fluffing her hair with one hand.
“But what about Chiron?”
“Banished, of course, along with a host of others. And I didn’t send them anywhere as nice as Venice.”
“Were there any casualties? During the big fight?”
“Wounded, yes,” Vasco said. “But none killed.”
“How?”
“I’m the best dog in the world!” Magellan barked. “Soft mouth! Soft paws! Me! Me! Me!”
Vasco chuckled and threw the eager beagle a treat as he explained.
“Magellan may not open portals, but he’s been through his share of training. Knows how much force to use with a wide variety of races.”
“Seven hundred sixty-eight!” Magellan added. “Want me to name them?”
“Not now,” Vasco said, but patted Magellan’s head as turned back to me. “Plenty of those nychtera needed medical treatment, don’t get me wrong. But no fatalities.”
That gave me a sigh of relief. I still felt bad about the riskatan. But a question that had been bugging me bubbled to the surface.
“What were they smuggling, anyway?”
“Emeralds,” Vasco said. “Big ones, but not so big they’d draw special attention. Didn’t need to move many at a time to make their money—”
“And money wasn’t the point anyway,” Janna said. “Chiron was building contacts. A network of humans here in the Pacific Northwest, built around a handful he could actually interact with.”
“We put a stop to it just in time,” Vasco added. “We’ll clear that part up too.”
“You won’t banish the humans,” I said, frowning.
“Of course not,” Janna said. “They’re not signatories of the treaty, and they’re not Locksmiths. I’ll just … close their minds to certain details of what they’ve done and been through.”
“Will they be going to jail?”
“For what?” Vasco asked with a shrug. “Emeralds weren’t stolen. At least, not on earth. Probably not where they came from either. No crimes against human law have been committed.”
“Can’t have it though,” Janna said. “That kind of smuggling. Play havoc with the jewelry market, and eventually people would start asking the wrong questions, in ways and numbers that would be harder to deal with.”
“What about Quelan?” I asked.
“What about Quelan?” Janna repeated, looking at Vasco and making the question sound far more important than I had.
But Vasco only gave me a blank look.
“She made all those hiding places in the rocks,” I said. “She made the whole operation possible. So what happens to her?”
“Nothing,” Janna said with a grimace. “Not against any treaty to construct space inside an object. Heck, if it were, we wouldn’t be allowed to stretch space the way we do in things like Vasco’s duffel bag. It’s a related effect, and innocent in and of itself.”
“The car’s manufacturer isn’t responsible if the car is used to help rob a bank,” I said.
“Exactly,” Janna said. “She’ll cross us again, I’m sure. But she didn’t do it this time.”
“I think that brings us to the big question,” Vasco said.
“Yes!” Magellan barked, bouncing up and down. “Yes! The big question!”
“Big question?” I asked.
“Well,” Janna said, looking away for a moment.
Then she inhaled deeply through her nose, adjusted her thick glasses and looked back at me.
“Technically,” she said, “your punishment for accidentally killing the riskatan is finished. You make a fine Locksmith, but you were recruited under pressure. So, the big question is, do you want to continue being a Locksmith?”
“What exactly does it involve?” I asked.
“A lot of your time’s your own,” Vasco said. “So long as you keep an eye on things. Help who needs helping, that kind of thing. Hang with me for a couple of days and I’ll show you what I mean, now that we’re not under pressure.”
“And when a need arises,” Janna started, but Vasco interrupted her.
“Which it will. Not infrequently.”
“Then I call you in and give you a formal task.” Janna smiled then. “Being a Locksmith carries a stipend, of course. Pretty generous, because money isn’t exactly a problem for us.”
“And there’s camaraderie,” Vasco added. “We Locksmiths are a pretty friendly bunch.”
“Yeah we are!” Magellan said, still bouncing.
“What happens if I say no?”
“If you say no,” Janna said through a sigh, “then I close your mind to the … esoteric details of the last couple of days. You’ll think you caught a nasty cold in the river, and stayed in bed fighting a fever. You’ll still be able to notice things the way you could before, but—”
I raised one palm and shook it until she stopped talking.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t know why I bothered asking. I’m in. All the way.”
“Yes!” Magellan barked.
Vasco clapped me on the shoulder, while Janna shook my hand. Vasco handed me back my clothes. All of them neatly cleaned, pressed and perfect.
Even my good blue silk shirt. Which had been torn to shreds…
“Oh,” I said quickly. “One question.”
I waited until I had the attention of all three of them.
“I don’t suppose there’s a less painful way to heal injuries in the field?”
“In the field?” Janna said. “No.”
“Well,” Vasco said. “Give yourself a paper cut and you’ll recall the kind of energetic healing we can do.”
“Problem is,” Janna said, “anything beyond a paper cut requires the kind of focus you won’t have, if you’re the one wounded.”
“And you can’t afford, if you aren’t,” Vasco finished. “Energetic healing in the field leaves you vulnerable to attack.”
“Then we’d have two wounded Locksmiths.” Janna shook her head. “It’s no good. Best to stick with Bruisebane and Serpent’s Kiss, and watch each other’s backs.”
Well that sucked.
Still, it was a small price to pay for the whole world of wonders that had opened up to me. Because now I knew the difference between weird and wyrd. Between eccentric behavior, and true magic.
Portland — Portal-Land — had both. So whether it was spelled with an “ei” or a “y,” I knew just exactly what kind of weird Portland was.
My kind of weird.
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