Green, Sharon - The Far Side of Forever

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SHARON GREEN

has written:

THE FAR SIDE OF FOREVER

THE REBEL PRINCE

The Terrillan Series

THE WARRIOR WITHIN

THE WARRIOR ENCHAINED

THE WARRIOR REARMED

THE WARRIOR CHALLENGED

The Jalav: Amazon Warrior Series

THE CRYSTALS OF MIDA

AN OATH TO MIDA

CHOSEN OF MIDA

THE WILL OF THE GODS

TO BATTLE THE GODS

The Diana Santee Series

MIND GUEST

GATEWAY TO XANADU

SHHRON GREEN

THE FHR SIDE

OFFOREVER

DAW BOOKS. INC.

DONALD A. WOLLHEIM, PUBLISHER

1633 Broadway. New York, NY 10019

Dedication:

For Paty Cockrum—and not only for being

a good friend. It took more than a friend to

share Sh'rlii.

Caver an by Ken W. Ketly.

DAW Book. Collectors No. 717.

First Printing, August, 1987

123456789

PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

PROLOGUE

/—Laciel

The room was colder than a small room should be, but not

in front of the blazing fire where she sat. The fire jumped

and crackled, trying to get the attention of the uncaring

gray stone all around it, but didn't even succeed in getting

the girl's attention. She sat in the overstuffedtirown leather

armchair, relaxed but intent on something she seemed able

to see in the air in front of thtf'fire and hearth, something

mat seemed to excite her. Her violet eyes glowed in the

firelight and one lock of her platinum blond hair had fallen

over her right shoulder, but other than that she sat unmov~

ing and unspeaking.

Beside her chair, to the left, the dim, warm air stirred

and began to thicken and darken, increasing until it was

deep black and palpable, beating and pulsing with obvious

life- In the midst of the living cloud were two red eyes,

blazing as hot as the fire, intelligent and aware and con-

scious of power in a way most beings never achieved. The

eyes looked around, saw the girt and the way she stared,

narrowed very briefly with disturbance, then widened again.

The black cloud immediately began stirring a second time,

and in five heartbeats it had assumed a form that was

definitely feline in nature, four legs, large body, long tail,

big head and pointed ears. All black but for the two red,

burning eyes, which fastened themselves on the motion-

less. oblivious girl.

6 SHARON GREEN

"If you try it, you're a fool." the black beast-cloud said

to her, its voice low and nearly all snarling growl. "More

minds are lost on that plane than ever make it back, usually

because they try it before they're ready. You're doing the

same thing."

"I think 1'hear someone calling you, InThig," the girl

answered with faint annoyance, her eyes still on whatever

she saw. "Why don't you go home and see what they

want?"

"You're scarcely amusing, girl," the beast InThig

growled, stretching its big body out on the stone beside the

girl's chair. "I'm aware of the fact that you don't care to

have people express concern for you, but I'm not people.

And I'm only thinking of your safety."

"Demons aren't supposed to be concerned," the giri

observed, still not looking at me being she addressed.

"They're also not supposed to think of people's safety.

You're a disgrace to the legends, InThig, and should be

ashamed of yourself. If I'd been the one to summon you,

f'dbe ashamed."

"Happily, your foster mother has more sense than that,"

InThig replied, the growl turning dry as the blaze in the

eyes sharpened. "If I could have reached her where she's

traveling and brought her back with me, she would be

telling you the same thing. Going to explore that plane BOW

is reckless madness."

"If I were ten years old, it would be reckless madness,"

the girl came back, her annoyance rising so high that she

shifted in the chair. "Since I'm twenty-two and have been

a full sorceress for me last five years, it's nothing more

than necessary research. One must expand with one's

growth, otherwise one ceases growing."

"The witch apprentice Nedra did not achieve the plane

on her own," InThig persisted, the claws on its front feet

curiing into (he stone with a chill-making scrape. "Borinthin

the wizard sent her in and out, taking a simple payment

both before and afterward. Borinthin has always been

attracted to you; if you're determined to go through with

this insanity, why not approach him as Nedra did and. . ."

The demon's voice went on and on, but the giri had

stopped listening. She knew what Nedra had done to achieve

THE FAR SIDE OF FOREVER 7

me plane, but she wasn't about to do the same. The next

time she saw mat prancing, preening Nedra, she'd have

achieved the plane herself, without having had to buy any

favors. Then it would be her turn to crow.

Her eyes were still on the point of space in front of the

hearth. Seeing there not empty space, but the entry she'd

called into existence- Some entries occurred naturally and

only had to be found, and those were called gates; some,

however, needed to be created before they were available

for use, and those were the most dangerous. They gave

access to planes that had no relation to human beings in

any way, places in which humans could not long survive.

For the unSighted to go to many of those places would be

instant death, to remain there permanently in safety impos-

sible even for wizards. All the Sighted could do was visit

for a while, and that was all Laciel was going to do. She

rose from the chair in one fluid motion, stepped two

spaces forward, and was gone from me room.

Her determination carried her another three paces past

the entry into the plane on the other side, and then she

stopped in startlement and awe to look around. Everyone

had always said that that plane was indescribably beauti-

ful. but the words they'd used yere pale and flat in the face

of the actual thing. Rather than feeling dangerous the place

chimed with lovely welcome, crystal song adorning crystal

lace, colors such as she'd never seen before, shapes that

caught the eye and held it. It was filled with the breathy

whispers of lovers, the delight of small children, the inno-

cence of a wholesome heart, the dearest hopes ever to be

dreamt of; she was instantly entranced as she looked around,

her mind no longer alert for what danger there might be.

Danger was unknown in a place like that, always had been

and always would be.

The time rate of her own dimension was unknown in

that other place, but after a thousand heartbeats she was

distracted from her stroll through the overwhelming beauty

by the awareness that her lungs were beginning to labor.

The golden rose that had been bom through her desire to

see it still lay fragrantly on her palm, but its perfume was

no longer reaching her as easily as it had. She knew then

that it was time to return through the entry, and turned to

SHARON GREEN

her left to find the shadowy gate only two steps away.

Slowly and with great reluctance she took those two steps

and then the necessary third—but found her surroundings

unchanged. Chiming loveliness still lay everywhere, laugh-

ing softly in shared'happiness, and the gate shadow was

now three steps to the right. Her heart began to pound with

effort as this time she moved to the right, but once again

stepping through the gate took her nowhere but four steps

over along the singing plane. She had gone twice through

the entry and still hadn't left, and then, as fear began to

rise to accompany shortness of breath, she finally understood.

The plane was not only endlessly beautiful, it also cre-

ated its visitors* fondest wishes; it would create an image

of the entry anywhere Laciel wanted it, but none of those

images would be the real thing. It had taken two days for

the giri to See through to the actual entry, two days in her

own world. From that side a new entry would take at least

as long, but the air she had brought through with her

would last no longer than another pair of minutes.

In desperation the young sorceress began to really look

at the nearest curtain of crystal lace, fully intending to

change it into the air she needed to breathe, but under her

stare the curtain shifted, dissolved, and left behind it—

nothing. She blinked in shock, withdrawing her stare—and

me curtain glimmered back to life, resuming its place

among the other curtains and veils and trailing leaves and

tall, delicate pastel fountains. None of it was real. none of

it had substance, and she was already gasping; there was

nothing in reach with which to make the air she needed,

and the pounding in her head increased and expanded. She

was close to blacking out, she knew, close to the end with

no hope of finding her way back, and then the hand

appeared in front of her. . . .

// — Rikkan Addis

It was heavily overcast that night, and even darker in

the forests all. around them, but none of that was helping.

The small group of men had already split up and melted

away from each other in me humid dark, trying to confuse

THE FAR SIDE OF FOREVER 9

their pursuers, but that wasn't going to help either. They

were being tracked by the soul-leeches that had picked

them up at the castle, and soul-leeches couldn't be shaken

off- He had told them that just before he had left them,

wanting them to know just what their lies had bought them

all, and then he had slipped off into the dark, ignoring

their hissed demands that he return. A moment later they,

too, had chosen separate directions, all except the two who

had been so badly wounded they needed help to keep

moving. If they hadn't kept moving, they would have died

that much sooner.

He was a shadow among shadows as he made his way

deeper into the woods, but one that cursed silently even as

he sharpened his senses to their limit. He had been a fool

to believe those people when they'd told him they were

fighting for their freedom, a fool to let their idealistic

lectures keep him from looking around a bit more care-

iully. They'd begged him to lead them in their revolt, had

pressed their gold on him even before the attack just to

demonstrate their faith and good will, they'd wined him

and dined him and then had insisted he choose from that

group of very willing and very eager females. The time

with the girls had been pleasant enough, but if he hadn't

really believed the men needed him to help them find their

dignity as men, he never would have gotten involved. The

baron was an evil usurper, they had told him, one who

stole their young men for his army and their young girls

for his bed. He had to be stopped for the sake of every

villager in every village in the district, otherwise they were

all doomed to endless depravity.

Just before they had attacked the castle, he had accidentally

come across the real reason they wanted the baron attacked.

The night sounds of the forest had long since resumed

all around him, but suddenly a distant scream rang out,

silencing the daik-dwellers who had no desire to bring

attention to themselves. Immediately he went motionless,

his ears straining for sounds of the pursuit that had just

caught the first of his former comrades, his head up as he

tasted me messages borne upon the faint breeze, his eyes

blazing even in the smothering dark. Bronze-colored those

eyes were, dominating all of his tall, broad form, filled

10 SHARON GREEN

now with self-recrimination and self-disgust. He'd seen the

popinjay just before they'd left their camp to attack the

castle, the silk-covered fop clearly having no intention of

going with them, and had heard one of the men make

some ribald comment about die former baron's nephew.

He'd been too busy shifting the men into position to think

about what he'd seen and heard, but once the attack started

and it was too late to call it off, the truth had finally come

home to him.

He began moving soundlessly through the forest again,

this time cursing the men who had lied to him. Rather man

being a usurper the current baron was the rightful heir,

something made completely clear the moment me castle's

defenses had activated, it was the popinjay who was the

attempted usurper, and he had failed to tetl his greedy

followers that the castle itself would protect its rightful

inhabitant. The old baron's nephew had probably known

mat if the attacking force was targe enough and determined

enough at least a few of them would break through, and

had therefore decided not to mention anything else. Like

the defense that had made men go up in pretty-colored

smoke in me middle of their screaming charge. Like the

defense that made the ground open to swallow up others.

Like the ghost shapes that had flowed through the castle

walls to drink the life from any man they touched. Like me

soul-leeches that had picked up the trail of the few survi-

vors, following them away from the castle and into the

woods. No man had stayed to break into the castle, so the

popinjay had outsmarted himself. Faced with the horrify-

ingly unexpected, his surviving followers had cut and run,

leaving none to assassinate the baron for him.

A second scream came then, this time comprised of two

voices, increasing his pace rather than halting it. If he

could stay far enough ahead of the leeches to make it out

of the district, they would no longer be a danger. They

couldn't live beyond the boundaries of their own district

and they knew it, so once he was out they would not

pursue him. His night vision showed him the faint trail he

was following, helping him to move soundlessly even in

his hurry, but it simply wasn't enough. Those behind him

were moving even faster, and didn't care about how much

THE FAR SIDE OF FOREVER II

noise they made. They had quarry to catch, and weren't

about to be denied.

When he heard the crashing in the underbrush he knew

he'd lost the race, but it wasn't in him to simply give up.

He stopped and spun about, knowing they'd be on him in

another minute, but he still had the time to compose

himself for a final stand. Ignoring the heavy sword hung

scabbarded at his side he stood staring back up the trail

with his eyes blazing, a blaze that quickly began to spread

to the rest of him. As the blaze spread his body changed,

his form glowing and shifting and melting, until a giant

bronze beast with dripping fangs and eager claws stood in his

place. That was another reason they'd wanted him so

badly, telling him his link-shape was the only thing that

could breech the baron's final defenses, and he'd had no

reason men to disbelieve them. His link-shape could do

quite a lot that was beyond most ordinary mortals, but it

had never before faced soul-leeches. If it had any power

over them, he would soon know.

The crashing through the underbrush turned abruptly

into forms charging at him out of the darkness, too many

to count, too many to avoid. The soul-leeches were small,

but their mouths gaped wide "with needle-pointed teeth,

their claws dripped paralyzing venom, and me pads at the

bottoms of their feet were suckers, designed to hold to

their victim until he was dead and drained. Their victim

snarled, swiped across with the claws of one giant paw and

men leaped aside, but the effort had done no more man

delay the inevitable. More than half a dozen of the bone-

white leeches lay twitching and dying, but the rest were

gathering themselves to fly at him again. He snarled his

frustrated fury and backed a step, knowing that this time

some of them would have him, knowing that the end of his

days had now been found, but just as they began to throw

themselves in his direction a hand appeared before him. . . .

/// — Targa Emmen Su Daylath

The sun was not simply hot, and was no longer far, far

above the land. She knew it had lowered itself to only a

12 SHARON GREEN

few feet above her head, and now tried determinedly to

melt her into a pool of broiled, greasy flesh. She was still

up on her feet and still moving, but her eyes had taken to

closing even as her feet trudged on, and her mind was

beginning to wander.

"Fool woman," she croaked, speaking to herself aloud

again in an effort to recapture her attention. "Found the

tracks and followed them, made sure you didn't lose them,

but didn't realize until much too late how far they'd led

you. Middle of the desert they took you,'too far out to

walk back, then killed your mount. Too smart for animals,

those animals, and now you're the one who's dead. Tribe

will starve for sure if the other hunters are the same kind

of fools, but you won't know it. Another day at least to

any kind of water, and you won't make it."

She grunted agreement with herself as her feet dragged

across the flat, sandy barren, the pain of those steps just

another thing to add to all the rest. The flaming sun bumed

down on die sand as well as herself, and walking through

it barefoot, had become agony. She could close her eyes

against the blinding glare all about, but wrapping her feet

had proven impossible. Her leather shirt had cut into wrap-

pings easily enough, but they hadn't stayed where they'd

been put. They'd fallen off when her attention had wan-

dered, and by the time she'd noticed they were far behind

her. Lack of water was doing that to her, and the heat and

the trail that she couldn't afford to lose. As long as she

kept her attention on the trail, it didn't matter whether or

not she could see it; she could feel its proper place and

therefore follow it. If once she lost that trail, though, she

knew she would never be able to find it again.

"Damn fool woman," she muttered almost silently, her

sand-dry mouth and tongue and throat refusing to produce

any more in the way of sound. "Why don't you just fall

down and give it up?"

She considered that suggestion for a minute, liking the

way it sounded, but for some reason couldn't do it. When

she fell for the final time it would be soon enough to just

lie there, so she didn't have to bother about doing it now.

Also she was a hunter, and hunters didn't do things like

that.

THE FAR SIDE OF FOREVER

She had been a tall, strongly-built, attractive woman

when she'd started the return trek, light brown hair and

dark brown eyes, but that had been days ago. Right then

she was fire-skinned and blistered, bent and limping as

though old, eyes closed in voluntary blindness and lips

cracked like dried-out clay. Her hair was lank and greasy

from sweat and her limbs had begun to tremble, and

suddenly she knew she hadn't been lying just to keep

herself moving- She wasn't going to make it and she was

going to die, probably right that minute. Her shuffling

advance had stopped and she couldn't get it going again,

not even if she tried forever. That was it, she knew, the

final step, and just before she fell for the last time she

opened her eyes—to see the hand. . . .

IV — Kadrim Harra

He'd spent a long time that morning just standing and

staring out a window of his palace, and no one had dared

to disturb him. The king had been moody, they knew, and

it wasn't wise to intrude on a moody king, most especially

not one who had taken his kingdom by the strength of his

sword. That sword had been hanging on the wall above his

throne for more than twenty years now, but it hadn't been

neglected or allowed to rust. When he took it down and

buckled it on there was still no one to question his actions,

not even when he got a mount and rode away from me

palace alone toward the mountains. He had never been the

sort of king who bowed to the will of others just because

they were there to advise him; his advisors offered advice

only when it was asked for, and at other times kept their

mouths prudently shut.

He was into the mountains in no time. moving quickly

through the foothills and then upward toward his favorite

thinking place, his refuge from the demands of kingship. It

took more than an hour of steady riding and climbing to

reach it, and once he did he dismounted slowly and left the

beast untethered, then walked out as far as he could. His

favorite place was a widened platform of a plateau on the far

side of the mountain, and when he stood at the edge and

SHARON GREEN

looked over, he could see a thousand feet and more down

to the slope below, with nothing in the way to mar the

view. He had always loved that place, which made this

particular visit no more than fitting.

"I have come for a final time, old friend," he said to

the view, letting his eyes move slowly from one side to the

other- "1 am no longer able to bear this life, and no longer

young enough to seek another. How foolish a man is to

survive all his battles, for then he becomes that most

pitiful of things, an aged warrior."

He stood silently with his gaze turned inward, remem-

bering the streaks of gray he had seen in his hair and beard

that very morning. Until then he had seen no more than the

bright red of the time of his youth, but after bending down

and having trouble straightening again, he had gone in

shock to study his reflection. The face that looked out at

him still had bright, hard blue eyes, but it was the face of a

man who hadn't seen battle for the length of his oldest

son's lifetime, for long enough for him to have grown old

without his having noticed. He had been discontented for a

long while, and had found it more and more difficult

remembering that he had conquered every foot of land he

could see from horizon to horizon, had taken it and held it

and made it his own; in the beginning the accomplishment

had been very satisfying, but after a time the satisfaction

had palled. Every year he had promised himself that the

very next year he would ride beyond what was his and

claim what others thought was theirs, but ruling his own

was chore enough, and more than enough for a man who

preferred the taking to the ruling. If he took more he

would have more to rule, and more to keep him from any

further taking.

He sighed as he thought about it and shook his head, a

big man now emptied of what had made him larger than

life. Not one city in his entire kingdom had been able to

stand against his forces when he'd first ridden in attack,

not one that could anticipate his strategy and defend against

it. That, too, had kept him from riding out again, for this

had been the largest and best defended kingdom on the

entire continent before it had fallen to him; after that, what

sport would the others be?

THE FAR SIDE OF FOREVER

Now even the thought of sport made him wince, espe-

cially the sport a man should find interest in till his body

was no longer filled with breath. As he had stood gazing at

himself in the glass that morning, that devil-kitten Sheldis

had come up behind him and circled his body with her

amis, then had begun to stroke him- Rather than respond

to her as he always did, he had for the first time in his life

felt unable, the horror of which had made him send her

away. He was old, and useless, and no longer even a man;

as a king he had lately left running his kingdom to his

eldest five sons, who saw to the thing better man he ever

had. There was nothing left to do but end it entirely,

before he became a burden rather than a king.

"And before word spreads of my vanished manhood,"

be muttered, knowing he would never be able to bear the

shame of that. To need to live with shame would slay a

man, to live with shame and boredom both, far worse than

death. It was better that he end it at once, right there, in

me place he had always loved. He stood at the very edge

of the plateau, his once-strong left hand resting on the hilt

of the sword that had been his only close companion for

many long years, his eyes taking a final pleasure from the

scene he would soon become ,a part of. One last time he

sighed, a wordless farewell to all those he left behind, and

men he raised his foot for the longest stride he had ever

taken. Raised the foot and set the body to following—and

men there was a hand before him. . . .

V — Soffann Dra

The lock was so simple she scarcely paid attention to it,

getting through the door faster than she would have with a

key. It was darker inside than she had expected it to be,

but she couldn't take the time to worry about that. She

slipped inside quickly and silently and shut the door be-

hind her, then groped around trying to find something to

sit on. The man who had paid her me advance had said she

might get there before him, and if she did she was to wait.

She exclaimed in a low voice as she bruised her shin on

something hard, then discovered that the something was a

SHARON GREEN

wooden stool. Beside the stool was a low wooden table,

one to match the height of the seat. She smoothed her

skirts down and sat on the stool, wondering how long she

would have to wait, knowing she would wait as long as

necessary. She had agreed to meet the man in that deserted

part of the city in the dead of night for only one reason,

the same reason that would keep her there until he showed

up- The money he'd given her for the work he wanted

done was only a small part of the ultimate total, more than

she'd ever seen at one time in all her life. With tastes as

expensive as hers, she needed all the money she could get.

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