“How can you know that?” I asked. “I thought you couldn’t read his mind.”
His mind is labyrinth of hallucination that protects his innermost thoughts, but I am slowly navigating that labyrinth. I’ve learned that he blames his presence here on the Black Swan. She paid a substantial fee to persuade King Brightmoon of the importance of including him.
I scratched my ghostly scalp as I contemplated this. It was difficult to wrap my head around the idea that the Black Swan had already witnessed the next twenty years. I wondered what else she’d changed on this mission, beside including Zetetic and Aurora? I glanced back at the ogress, who was bringing up the rear along with Infidel. One thing conspicuously absent from the mountains of gear upon their backs was a harpoon. From the way Aurora had described it, the shaft of the harpoon was over fifteen feet long. It plainly wasn’t with the gear, and Tower wasn’t carrying it either. Could it have been broken down into something smaller?
I spent most of my time drifting near the two women, mostly because of my craving for Infidel’s company, but also because of the circle of chilled air that surrounded Aurora. Even as a ghost, the jungle heat was unpleasant. Still, being a traveling ghost wasn’t all bad. On my trips through the jungle while I was alive, I was normally too exhausted by hiking to enjoy the scenery. In my weightless, ogre-cooled comfort zone, I had time to appreciate the rich tapestry we walked through. If everything around us was the work of the Divine Author, he had a sense of playfulness when it came to the colors surrounding us. Translucent pink salamanders the size of bananas crawled over dark jade leaves big enough to use as a tent. Parrots and parakeets the color of lemons and oranges flitted between chocolate-brown tree trunks, devouring iridescent copper beetles and finger-length ants red as chili peppers. Orchids blossomed in every nook and cranny, flowers I’d only seen in botany books — yellow and black tipsy tigers, snow-white wedding gloves, pale purple danglers. The breeze was a heady mix of their perfumes; though, little by little, the floral aroma was getting drowned out by the low-tide stench of Reeker as he and the Deceiver slowed their pace to skirt the bubble of cool air surrounding Aurora.
“Allow me to apologize for Father Ver,” said the Deceiver, looking back at Aurora with a friendly smile. “His church teaches that ogres and mermen and the like are false beings, existing as sort of a shared dream that will all be wiped away when the world finally awakes to the truth. I pity him for the limits of his worldview. I personally am happy to be in the company of someone who knows ice magic.”
Aurora gave him a suspicious look. Even a compliment felt dangerous coming from the man. Still, I wondered if I was giving him a fair shake. I distrusted Deceivers mainly because the church had drilled into my brain from an early age that heretics like Zetetic were the incarnation of evil. That same church harbored a supply of knife-wielding maniacs dedicated to stabbing the woman I loved. Perhaps I needed to keep an open mind.
“I’ve always been fascinated by the magic of your people,” Zetetic continued. “It’s based on completely different theories of reality than those that are taught by the Church of the Book. Since Father Ver believes he is in possession of the sole path to truth, your mere presence is a threat to him. The undeniable evidence that your magic works undermines everything he believes. No wonder he hates you.”
Aurora shrugged. “I don’t care what he thinks.”
“A healthy attitude,” said Zetetic. Then he turned toward Relic, who was hobbling along near Infidel. “The ruins of the Vanished Kingdom are filled with idols of gods long since forgotten. I’d love to learn more about who these gods were, and what the men of your time believed.”
Relic shrugged. “The men of my time were no different than the men of today. There was no one great, universal truth accepted by all. In the end, it mattered little who or what was worshipped. Time wiped away both the just and unjust. The followers of the dog-god vanished from the world just as completely as the followers of the snake-god. The temples where a thousand men gathered to sing the praises of their makers are now hidden beneath roots and rocks. I cannot help but think that, no matter what men believe to be true, over a long enough time scale, it will be proven false.”
Zetetic smiled. “Just because an idea is eventually false doesn’t mean it wasn’t true once. We Deceivers are smeared as believing that the world is created from shared lies. It’s more accurate, however, to say that the world is composed of contradictory truths.”
“How can truths be contradictory?” asked Aurora. “Things either are, or they aren’t. It can’t be both night and day at the same time.”
“It can if the world is a sphere,” said Zetetic. “In your homeland it is always winter; here it is always summer. If I could travel instantly between the two physical spaces and ask the season, I would receive two contrary yet true answers. People are limited to thinking that their immediate experiences represent all that is real. The Church of the Book believes one model of reality, while Weavers, blood magicians, and somnomancers all are certain that they are in sole possession of the actual truth of the world. You can’t blame people for thinking that these competing ideas can’t all be correct. But, what if reality is large enough to accommodate everything? What if we live in a world where all truth is local? What if, on the grand scale, everything that can be imagined is true?”
“Remind me not to ask you any more questions,” grumbled Aurora.
“I’m merely trying to pass the time with some intellectually stimulating conversation.”
“The only thing I need stimulated is my spine,” said Aurora, with a hint of strain in her voice. She shifted the oversize pack she hauled to redistribute the weight to her left shoulder. “What the hell does Tower have in the packs? Anvils?”
“If your load is heavy, perhaps I could be of assistance.”
Aurora gave the Deceiver’s slender form a quizzical look. “What? You’ll tell me some lie about the gear? Convince me that it’s lighter?”
Reeker suddenly became much more alert.
“Uh-uh,” he said, grabbing Zetetic by the arm and pulling him a yard further up the trail from the ogress. “If you try to use your powers, I’m supposed to give you a full blast of juice.”
Zetetic frowned. “You wound me, sir. I was merely offering aid to a member of the fairer sex. Have you no sense of chivalry?”
Aurora snorted. “He’s the wrong guy to ask that question.”
The faintest trace of a snicker flickered over Infidel’s face.
“Reeker’s the worst womanizer I’ve ever seen,” said Aurora. “He’s slept with every whore in Commonground without paying a dime. Treats them like something you’d scrape off a boot, and still they line up outside the bar waiting for him.”
Reeker didn’t look offended by this summary of his character. Instead, he slicked back the white streak in his hair and said, “Aurora, honey, I’d be happy to show you what the women are so hungry for.”
Zetetic stroked his chin as he studied the skunk-man. “I suspect his secret is musk.”
Reeker cut him a sideways glance.
Zetetic wasn’t deterred. “Most mammals use scent to convey sexual signals. With his control of aromas, perhaps Reeker is seducing women on a primal level with odors they aren’t consciously aware of.”
Reeker poked the Deceiver in the chest. “You don’t know nothing! Women like me for my good looks and charm.”
Zetetic held up his palms. “I meant no offense. However, since I lack your striking features and erudite manners, I’m left with only simple kindness with which to befriend women. This is why I’d like to help Aurora.”